Harry Potter and MACUSA's Meddling
by SethSister
Summary: [HeadCanon/OC/Post-Hogwarts] Sequel to Harry Potter and the Dark Secret; After Gerald Davis resurfaces, it is decided on by the Ministry that pursuit of the dark wizard has brought about more harm than good. However, when MACUSA hears of the Ministry's decision, they are not impressed and call for the American criminal to be returned to them to face their good judgment.
1. Author's Note

[HeadCanon/OC/post-Hogwarts] Book 2: After Gerald Davis resurfaces, it is decided on by the Minister for Magic and the majority of his affiliates that pursuit of the dark wizard has brought about more harm than good. Questionably, the wizard was merely untrained in magical law, having been forced to live a muggle life in his native country.

On a test of good faith, Gerald is allowed to continue in his freedom, with the expectation that he follow the Ministry's law even when threatened. It at first appears that the retired necromancer is in sincere agreement with these terms. However, when MACUSA hears of the Ministry's proposal, they are not impressed and call for the American criminal to be returned to them to face their good judgment.

GENRE: Fantasy, Mystery, Crime

RATING: Teen for Thematic Elements, Violence, Language

POINT OF VIEW: Third person, focused on Harry

TRIGGER WARNING: Self-harm, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Behavior

BOOK TWO in the Secrets of Grindelwald Series

SEQUEL: ?

RELATED STORIES: Harry Potter & the Dark Secret [Book 1]; Misadventures of a Dark Wizard [Prequel]

[Omits details from The Cursed Child]

[I own only my OCs and the plot of this story. Everything else is the property of J.K. Rowling and affiliates.]

 _It's not necessary, but highly recommended that book one be read first. The story will still (mostly) make sense if you read out of order, but just as reading the original Harry Potter series, it comes out best if read in its intended sequence. I don't do a lot of recaps if any as I'd rather spend the time giving new details and not rehashing the same ones._

 _Also, if you'd like to hear these stories as well as the events leading up to them from Gerald's point of view, go check out 'Misadventures of a Dark Wizard' which will be written alongside this series. 'Misadventures' will never be updated past what has happened in the original series. That way, those who are following along with both stories as I update them will not read events in Gerald's point-of-view before seeing them in third person, focused on Harry._

 _I also recommend that if you plan on reading both the 'Secrets of Grindelwald' series and 'Misadventures of a Dark Wizard,' that you start with reading all published 'Secrets' parts before heading over to 'Misadventures.' The reason being that 'Secrets' leaves a lot of Gerald a mystery and 'Misadventures' will reveal his true thoughts, intentions, and experiences._

 _Thank you for your time!_  
 _Thank you for reading!_  
 _And have a fantastic day!_

 _~Sahreth 'Baphy' Bowden  
aka Baphy1428_


	2. Chapter 1: The Mystery Continues

"Good evening, Misters Potter, Weasely...Missus Granger."

"Evening, ," the lead auror fumbled over the pronunciation of the name when the door was opened to the trio.

"You can call me Mihai," the vampire chuckled.

Harry nodded, "First name basis with us too, if you wish."

"Of course," Mihai smiled, turning and walking back into the house.

The dark creature was considerably kind, something that came as a surprise after his reserved and menacing demeanor during their formal introduction. Granted he _had_ been in prison at the time and the aurors had been the first to threaten. It still struck the wizards strangely just how close he appeared to be with Gerald. After having known him for only a matter of months, a blink in the vampire's immortal life, he had grown quite protective of the demon. It was true that he had been assigned to keep an eye on Gerald by his clan. However, recalling the first words during their initial interrogation at Azkaban...

 _"And what is it you want in exchange?" Harry asked.  
"Gerald,"the vampire answered plainly._

Mihai had disregarded the safety of his vampiric allies, in favor of simply freeing himself and his fellow inmate. It could have been a bluff since both he and the aurors knew the Ministry couldn't launch an attack on the fortress. Even _if_ they were successful in taking down or capturing those within, the following uproar when magical citizens of all species realized this largely unfounded attack, wasn't an agreeable outcome. As well, all the unknowns in the case such as the presence of other clans elsewhere and those under the creatures' control were too much to justify the safety of such a thing. In the end, all they could do was accept Mihai's proposal that the two be let go and in return, he would teach the wizards about his people himself, under the certainty of the unbreakable vow.

This was, apparently, acceptable to his family and Gerald remained spending much of his time with the vampires to learn control of himself and help them recover their damned souls. The aurors had thus far had two meetings with the pair. The first was comprised of taking physical samples and magical tests of Mihai and the second had been when the actual teaching began. It was then that they had learned of the man's position with Gerald. The leader of his clan, who he wasn't obligated to reveal, they learned nonetheless through Alan Jameson, the pawn who had been forced to pose as George Weaseley.

Lacrima Candea had appointed Iliescu to, more or less, keep Gerald from escaping or hurting himself. The vampire had offhandedly made the comment that the demon had refused to eat for the better part of a week when first captured and that he had literally forced food down his throat. Gerald's expression, while seemingly aggravated to have the story shared, flirted with a strangely softer sentiment at the same time. After departing them, the single incident sparked a discussion with the three wizards that equated to them wondering about the demon's past relationships. They knew during the era of Voldemort, the dark lord had been nearly his only contact with others. Or at least, this part of him was true as far as they could tell. That was a span of at least twenty years. Besides that, all they were aware of was his bandmates: Oliver and Brad.

It was clear the demon was resistant to forming bonds with people, something seemed to have come from his years with the man he still referred to as 'Tom.' Hermione suggested that perhaps he had seen Mihai's actions as caring. He hadn't had much experience with truthfully loving actions, so even if the vampire was using him or simply acting under orders...even if he knew it too, his mind could have construed it as kindness. There was absolutely no way that his relationship with Voldemort had been anything truly positive in these regards, a fact occasionally backed up by absentminded musings from Gerald. Ron had retorted about how he had treated Oliver, who legitimately worried for his friend and had taken grave risks for him.

"Why would he acknowledge Mihai's actions as kind and disregard Oliver's?"

"That's just it, because of the type of behavior he must be used to with Voldemort could have warped the way he thinks," the redhead's wife explained, "You have to remember, he was young himself when those two met."

"Yeah, I guess," Ron shrugged, "Besides that, he isn't completely human so his brain might work differently anyway."

"I still wish we had more complete information about those years," Harry hummed.

"Give it time," the witch smiled, "I'm sure we'll put more together. Especially with this deal.. Though...Gerald isn't under the obligation of the vow."

"Do you think they're fucking?" her husband asked bluntly.

"RONALD!" Hermione slapped him, sending Harry into a roar.

"Wut?" Ron squeaked, "We know he's, you know...a bit of a slapper. What if the difference between Oliver and Mihai is that these two are...you know...involved."

"I really doubt that's the case, but it's an interesting theory, Ron," the witch rolled her eyes.

"Yeah...I think there's something else going on," the lead auror returned to a solemn tone.

It was Harry's thinking that perhaps the answer to the whole oddity of the mutual interest between the vampire and the demon was more sinister. Perhaps they had some sort of dubious plan for power. Taking over the vampires? Holding their souls as ransom for loyalty? Or even something that would involve another wizarding war. What if Gerald fell into his teacher's or father's footsteps after all? It could very well be that his plans with Voldemort didn't pan out and he had given up until he'd met Mihai. He did still seem to hold sentiment for the dark wizard. As much as none of them wanted to believe it, especially with the vampire's cooperation and pleasant attitude once they were put on a friendly basis, they couldn't ignore that Gerald's generally improved mood was unsettling...and that a friendly face wasn't always as it appeared...

The three had made it through the hall and sat on the familiar red couch in the home at 14 Salt Box Road. Gerald, dressed in his usual black attire, was sitting with legs crossed in a chair across from them, scribbling into a notebook, "Hey," he greeted lazily without looking away from his work.

Mihai, outfit consisting of blue jeans and a bright red button down, contrasted both his companion and the typically perceived appearance of a vampire. He stood momentarily at the end of the furniture before taking a place in the seat next to Gerald, "What is it we should discuss this evening?"

"To be honest, we're concerned with Alan," Harry began, "He was under the control of your clan master heading for two centuries. He isn't doing very well."

"I can imagine," Mihai sighed, "It's an unfortunate part of our culture, but we need protectors, you see. Due to the sun, of course and we _are_ required to sleep some."

"I understand, but certainly you can find more who are willing to do the job, such as Brad," the auror pointed.

"Creating subvamps require a greater amount of trust than simply gathering cattle," the vampire explained.

"Because they retain more of their Master's powers?" Hermione asked.

Mihai nodded, "And free will. They could easily turn on us, though obviously, should they manage to kill their master, their abilities would vanish."

"Forgive me for saying, mate, but Brad hardly seems trustworthy," Ron scoffed.

"I trust him," Gerald's disinterested voice sounded, yet he kept his eyes on the papers in his hand.

"What are you doing over there?" Harry inquired.

"Writing," was the retorted answer.

"Clearly," Hermione hummed, her attitude drawing the demon's gaze finally.

"I'm a musician. Use that brain of yours, dear. You'll figure it out," he arched a brow.

"Particularly sour today, aren't we?" Mihai turned his attention toward the other creature momentarily, the demon dropping his attention to his scrawls again, "He tends to get like this when he's focused on creating new music."

Gerald didn't acknowledge anything else as the conversation reverted. He only began scribbling as if nothing was going on around him.

"Anyway, Alan is quite sick," Harry informed, "Not just mentally, but physically, it seems that his body isn't wanting to respond to any potions or even muggle treatments."

"Hm..." the vampire lifted long, jagged nails to scratch his chin, "In four hundred years, I can't recall an instance of cattle freeing themselves except once and the man was instantly slaughtered by his master."

"Can you... _not_ refer to them that way?" Hermione spoke up with concern to the disrespect of these tortured humans.

Mihai cocked his head to the side, "I apologize. It's simply the term we use. I mean no ill-will. I also don't believe there is a nicer way to say it."

"You could say servants," Gerald shrugged, "Though it's not accurate at all."

The entirety of the group turned their attention to the aloof demon, who suddenly became aware of the stares and glanced around at the group, "Just saying. Might as well call them cattle. It's nicer than slaves. Also, cows are treated better than such...overall, that is."

"It's fine," the witch sighed, agitated with the dark creatures' attitudes toward life, "I'm sorry for interrupting."

"However," Mihai instantly picked back up, "It may be possible to wean his body back into a normal human life, though I'm certain he won't like it."

"What way is that?" Harry wondered.

"I'm assuming that the majority of his sickness is spawning from the fact that he was abruptly and permanently removed from the link with Lacrima. Her willing, I theorize that ingesting her blood in gradually lessening increments would give the semblance of that bond until he was able to function without it altogether."

"And this wouldn't give her any power over him?" Hermione questioned, aware that the unbreakable vow would keep him from lying about this detail.

"None whatsoever," the vampire agreed, "Like I said, I don't anticipate he would be thrilled with this idea."

"Perhaps not," Harry mused, "But I'm sure we can figure that part out, if you can get the blood from Lacrima. Do you think she will even do this?"

"Hm. I can't be certain, but I think we can figure it out on our end as well," his gaze trailed toward over to Gerald, who eventually looked at the vampire.

"Ugh. Fine," the demon grunted, to which his friend smirked.

The other three sat silently, curious and confused. Was Mihai suggesting Gerald withhold use of his necromancy to negotiate using Lacrima's blood? Why would he even do that? Did it mean Mihai had some sort of hold over him? Maybe if she refused, they knew a way to use the demon's magic to obtain it anyway. Surely neither of them planned or would risk a forceful or aggressive route just to save Alan. It seemed out of character for Gerald, at the very least, and their aid in helping the man wasn't a requirement for their continued freedom.

"Mihai," Harry began, "You spoke about not caring for your clan's well-being before. We understand that if, at the time, you only said this to argue for your release, but-"

"You wonder if I was sincere and why?" the vampire finished.

The aurors nodded.

"Yes and no," he shrugged, "You see, I _was_ calling your bluff. In the same instance, however, if your statements had been truthful, I was also confident in the strength of the others. Your Ministry hasn't had any experience in fighting my kind except for your own short run-ins with us. In addition, my role is in keeping Gerald safe, keeping him working with us."

Harry barely refrained a scoff. He felt the words were honest, yet still believed that there was much more going on than he was letting on. He knew there was more than Gerald shared and everything the wizard did say was questionable until proven in another way.

"That being said," Mihai continued, "If it came to losing Gerald's assistance and the safety of my clan, I would choose Gerald hands down."

"So, you would betray who is basically your family for-" Hermione started, cut off by the vampire.

"For the chance to become human again? To have my soul returned so that when this body dies, my entire existence doesn't end? In a heart beat," he spoke in an oddly passionate tone.

"And you're perfectly okay with this?" the lead auror accused, his vision slowly trailing back to the demon.

"It leaves me protected, free, and sane," the sulky white-haired creature was in the middle of writing, but had still kept up with the conversation, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Yes, I forget how selfish you are..." Harry grumbled.

The demon peered up at him, "You say that as if I'm doing something evil here. I don't see how I'm in the wrong for helping him redeem his soul. If anything, I should think that would speak positively."

"Maybe it would, if it weren't for how it took dark magic for these wizards to become vampires in the first place, knowing it would mean a life of killing and enslaving innocents," Hermione retorted, "A life they both chose and continued. And what of after they get their souls back, won't this just continue?"

The three knew they didn't imagine the demon's eyes flash to red when he growled his reply, "There you all go jumping to conclusions and judging again! What is wrong with all of you?"

The wizards hands were on their wands, retrieving them from inside their robes as Gerald leaned forward in his seat, pointing his pen toward the trio after having dropped his tablet to glare at them. His eyes remained their new crimson color, his aggressive pose urging the others to aim their wands subtly enough that he wouldn't notice.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello again! After getting 72k words into Part 1 of 'Misadventures of a Dark Wizard,' which is Gerald's backstory and his retelling of the 'Secrets of Grindelwald' series, I decided to start on Book 2. A big part of the reasoning was because writing parts of his backstory are very triggering to me since I draw parallels between our lives. I actually have had a very bad week that ended in a pretty intense flashback a couple of days ago (for the unaware, I have PTSD). So, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1 of Book 2 in the 'Secrets of Grindelwald' series ^_^**


	3. Chapter 2: Curse

"Gerald, calm down," Mihai spoke, seemingly unconcerned for the tension.

The demon's gaze remained on the wizards sitting in front of him as he shakily lowered his pen, then leaned back in his seat so that his spine was straight, his chin tilted upward slightly. The aurors continued watching him, expecting his now bright red eyes to shift back to their normal blue, but they ddn't. Mihai either picked up on this, or simply realized his companion was yet to relax completely, because he finally turned his attention fully upon him, speaking his name once more. It took three blinks for Gerald's appearance to revert as he tore his vision away from the wizard, glancing momentarily to the vampire.

"Sorry," he whispered to the side, "I didn't mean to act aggressively," he breathed in sharply before raising his sight to the guests again, "I simply dislike judgements upon morality."

"I understand," Harry placated as the three eased their still hidden weapons, "But _you_ must understand this is a necessary part of keeping people safe, keeping society livable."

"He's right, Gerald," the creature next to him agreed, to the obvious dismay of his friend.

"No, he's not," the demon scowled, "It's necessary to make sure people keep their hands to themselves; it's not right to pass judgement upon people for their actions and deem them evil."

"So you're saying it's not evil or wrong or what have you, for people to kill? To torture and enslave?" Hermione piped smartly.

"I'm saying good and evil is bullshit," Gerald snapped, "Life is about survival. You can punish a person for killing, but you can't condemn them for it. Only shallow-minded, pretentious assholes who think a perfect good and a perfect world without violence can exist do that. It's ignorance."

There was a brief pause while the others contemplated a response.

"Then I guess we're ignorant, shallow-minded, pretentious assholes," Harry returned with brows arched, "Because when Voldemort killed and tortured countless people just for power and control, there's no other way we can see that, than as evil."

The demon cut his eyes to the side, opening his mouth in a smiling scoff, "Everything always comes back to him, doesn't it?"

"I feel it's a fair example, since both of us knew him intimately," the boy who lived kept his position firm.

Another sarcastic grin from Gerald, "No, Harry, I think you just want a reason to see if I'd say anything in support of Tom," he met the auror's gaze, "See if you can...get a better sense of _what I'm up to,_ " he spoke as if he knew exactly what was on the wizard's mind, "No, I'm done playing games. I don't have to justify or explain myself to you. I've done nothing here."

"Bold," Harry met his challenge, "Don't think we've overlooked Augustus Rookwood's murder."

Gerald grinned wildly, as if baiting the investigator, "Such an evil person...why then do you care so much about his fate?"

The wizard pursed his lips, his muscles tightening in aggravation of debating ethics with the man in front of him. The bastard knew their family was glad Fred's murderer was gone, and he relished the thought that he was honorable for presenting the death eater's corpse as a gift to George. It couldn't be proven _yet_ , but the daffodils, the note, the timing... It was obvious Gerald was the culprit and without outright confessing, he'd done nothing to hide it. He hadn't even bothered to deny the accusation when first approached. His exact words had been 'then prove it.'

"I care if it was done by another evil person," the auror almost hissed, vision narrowing.

"But not of it had been done by a good person? How hypocritical," Gerald laughed.

"Alright," Mihai cut in quickly, his tone stern, "Let's discuss the business of the evening? This is unimportant and is going nowhere."

It seemed that Gerald was fighting the urge to say something else, but refrain he did, with a shrug as he retrieved his notebook from the floor. Harry reluctantly loosened his shoulders and turned a polite expression to the vampire. It was Ron, however, who was next to speak.

"How about we talk about you?" he suggested.

"How fun," the demon grumbled, glaring up at him from the paper which had grabbed his focus again.

"I believe I'm the one required to share information with you," the vampire cut in before another argument could start, "And due to the vow, you'll know it's honest."

"Right," Weaseley nodded, "We've never seen his eyes do that before."

Mihai smiled, "As you know, Gerald had been working with us to learn control of his demon form. Hence his improved ability to socialize and the partial shift you just witnessed. Once he's finished, he will be very much like an animagus."

"I had actually been drawing that conclusion," Hermione hummed, "It seems right now, he's similar to a werewolf. His shifts are uncontrollable or at least mostly so. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Mihai confirmed, "His mind switches fully to that of the beast and it's difficult for him to think properly. Unlike a werewolf, he has the ability to learn control, which is what we are aiming for. Then, like an animagus, he will be able to shift at will, while retaining his logic."

The desire the the wizards held for commenting on Gerald's ability to think rationally was overwhelming, yet somehow they maintained professionalism.

"Then, it begs to question that he could be given medicine to halt his transformation," the witch mused, "If he's a human type creature with psychological and physical similarities to a werewolf."

Mihai paused and Gerald lifted his eyes from what he was writing. Was that worry on his face? Or curiosity?

"I'm not sure of that," the vampire finally said.

"Why not?" Harry wondered, sights on the demon, trying to decipher his thoughts.

"Werewolves retain control while human, yes? Then when the virus' effects are unleashed, is when they lose this," the vampire theorized, "Gerald's emotions are directly linked to the demon or vice versa. I feel that holding this part of him back will only agitate his temper and make him more unstable. It's vital that he learns control since hiding has proven to only exacerbate the symptoms."

Oddly, the dark wizard stood up then, and began strolling from the room without a word or glance to anyone. As he reached the door to the hallway, Harry called after, "Where are you going?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not needed here," he replied in a sulky tone, never ceasing his walk.

The lead auror looked to Hermione for input, then to Mihai, "I suppose that's true, but I'd prefer if he stayed."

"So you can study him?" the vampire observed casually, the subject of the discussion having already vanished.

Harry hesitated, "Yes. The two of you might have been pardoned for now, but we're still trying to learn about Gerald, his past and what he is. There's only so much to be learned from you. The vow doesn't apply to everything."

"Your concern is valid," Mihai nodded, "Though perhaps you can give him a little room to breathe. The more you squeeze, the more he'll resist."

Harry cocked his head to the side, considering those words, "We don't really have the option to-"

"You do, you just don't see it fit. You'd rather push him into breaking so you have a reason to arrest him again," the vampire paused, letting his assessment sink in, "But then do you think you'll really learn anything? Do you honestly believe he's going to sit in a cell and give you what you want? I can tell you for a fact that he won't."

The wizards exchanged looks in solemn understanding of the point. The vampires had captured and imprisoned Gerald and he stonewalled. It wasn't, apparently, until he perceived kindness that he began working with them. Even before then, when the beings had approached him endlessly with threats and who knows what else, he had resisted even the notion of helping. Harry thought back to finding a drunk Gerald in the village, with wounds from the vampires...

"If you really value this information, you'll soften your tactics," Mihai suggested.

"We appreciate that insight," Harry sighed, "But we do have to abide by the Ministry's rules."

Just as Mihai began to nod, the violent barking of a dog sounded behind the wizards, causing them to spin around on the couch. Coming down the stairs was Gerald, now dawning a black trench coat and holding fiercely to the chain of a large pitbull terror.

"BLIMEY!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing the back of the seat and clutching his wand at his side.

"TALIA! DOWN!" the vampire's voice became unusually loud as he commanded the dog into submission without moving from his spot.

The pitbull calmed instantly, closing her maws from aggressive barks to begin panting and wagging her tail excitedly. Gerald pat the side of the dog's chest and let go her leash, which she then dragged across the floor as she ran and pounced onto the vampire. He let her lick his face and stroked her head before pointing back toward Gerald and ordering her to 'go.' She once more obeyed and allowed the wizard to retrieve her chain.

"Do be careful," Mihai spoke plainly, receiving an offhanded wave from his companion as he departed from the house with the canine.

"Your dog?" Hermione wondered.

"Indeed. Talia watches over me while I sleep," the vampire hummed, "She's very disciplined. Only doesn't like strangers or...well, anyone around me really. I have to tell her it's okay."

"Hellhounds," Hermione suddenly said, gaining a look from her friends, "I heard tales of vampires using charmed dogs to act as protectors. It's said that some come from Hell itself."

Mihai laughed, "A dog need not have unnatural capability to be an efficient guard, but yes, you'll find it common for vampires to have dogs. Some even bite the creatures in order to instill absolute control and give it greater strength."

"And yours?" Ron inquired, still unsettled by the pitbull's abrupt appearance.

"Talia is perfectly normal," her owner assured, "One day, perhaps I won't be able to bear the thought of her passing and share my longevity with her, but for the time being, she remains pure."

The conversation didn't last too much longer before the lead auror called it quits and the trio took their leave. Gerald had not returned by that time and could not be seen from the street in front of the home. Night had fallen, so Harry's first concern was that mischief was afoot, but nonetheless, the three disapparated to the Potter residence to regroup with Ginny.

"Anything new?" the redhead greeted, whilst hugging her husband.

The auror shook his head, "Not really."

"What do you make of it?" Ron's initial mission had been to steal a roll from the kitchen, which he munched on greedily as he chattered, "Of all this nonsense about good and evil, I mean. I personally think that Mihai is manipulative."

His family all raised eyebrows at the redhead with his wife being the one to wonder aloud, "What?"

"It's just," another happy chomp on the bread, "I find it funny that all of a sudden Gerald is fine and dandy with assisting these guys when he clearly was adamantly against it from the beginning. Then Mihai makes the comment about how to learn what we want from Gerald. Isn't it a bit...peculiar?"

"You think he's only being kind to get what he wants with Gerald?" Harry surmised.

The other auror shrugged, finishing off his snack, "And with us."

"I can see that reasoning, Ronald," Hermione thought, "But what does that have to do with his stance on morality?"

Her husband strolled over to the others and sat on the sofa, prompting them to get comfortable as well, "We know he's killed people, used dark magic, necromancy, and probably a lot worse seeing how close he was with Voldemort. What if he's simply justifying it all by taking that position on good and evil?"

"That's quite likely, but Mihai agreed with me about that, not with Gerald," Harry pointed.

"That's the thing," Ron grinned as if he was about to impart some hard wisdom, "Why would he do that? He's also a killer and was a dark wizard before he..." the redhead made childish fang gestures with the tips of his index fingers, "You know."

"I got the sense that perhaps he was remorseful, whether he showed it definitively or not," Harry shrugged.

"Or," Hermione picked up her husband's train of thinking, "He's trying to seem a certain way for Gerald. If Gerald sees him as kind, only doing evil things because he _has_ to in order to survive from a past mistake...then he's more likely to relate, and go along with what Mihai wants, thinking the two of them are a lot alike."

"Gerald definitely doesn't see anything wrong with his current crimes," Ginny chimed in, "It's like he believes he only does them to protect himself from a past he can't go back and change."

The lead auror looked around at the others, feeling an emotion he hadn't felt for the demon in quite some time, "I don't know. I don't really like that idea. Yes, I've been anticipating some sort of wickedness from this new pairing, but..." Harry shook his head, "I'd actually feel badly for Gerald if that was the case. Maybe the poor bloke is cursed to have trouble come after him..."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Look at my Talia, that vicious baby lol ^^ She's a fucking sweetheart. I hate pitbull stereotypes. Now, she's a good guard dog that will bark and growl and keep an ear out for everything. She'll get rough while playing, but she's not vicious or mean or violent. She is also a fire and PTSD alert dog. LOOK AT HER BEAUTIFUL FACE!**


	4. Chapter 3: Capital Punishment

"Absolutely not," the man shook his head so fervently, it sent him into a coughing fit.

Harry took the patient's arm to pull him upward in bed to ease the hacking, "Alan, the doctor... There's nothing else we can do to help you and you're continually getting worse."

The coughs finally subsided and the the aurors were staring at Alan's palm along with him. His deathly pale skin was stained with spatters of red from where he had been covering his mouth. He took a few wheezing breaths and sat in silence, shaking his head more softly this time.

"Mate, you're going to die if you don't try this," Ron reiterated while shifting on his feet beside the hospital cot.

"I'll probably die anyway," Alan's tone grew low as he looked up to his guests again, "And I won't have anything of that beast in what is left of my life."

The aurors glanced at each other with heavy sighs. They couldn't force him to do anything, of course, but they hated seeing him in such a state, willing to pass by on the only chance he had of returning to the world properly and finishing his life in peace. They'd have brought Hermione with them if she hadn't other business to attend to since, as a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she'd been authorized to take part in matters of the case involving new information regarding the vampires or of demons. It wasn't technically what they were doing at the moment, though it could be argued that they might learn something from the encounter.

"I know you're trying to help," Jameson admitted after quiet began to settle, "But I do not want this."

As Harry gazed back into his eyes, he saw an intensity of sorrow that rivaled the heartbreak of every person who lost someone dear to them during the war...and as terrible as he imagined his own looked after his battles began taking their toll. Biting his cheek to refrain from showing any emotion, the auror gave a polite nod, "We understand. Is there anything you need before we go?"

"No," the patient offered a weak smile, "Thank you."

With another nod, the aurors left, finding their way quickly down the hall. Once out of earshot, Ron spoke, "Now what?"

"Visiting hours aren't over for another forty minutes," Harry mused, "I think we should ask your mum to stop by and say hello."

"Whut? You think she can talk him into it?" the redhead wondered.

"I dunno. Maybe," his partner shrugged, "She's sort of taken him under his wing since the beginning and he seems to have a liking for her as well. I think it's worth a shot."

"Alright then," Ron agreed, "She'll be at home, I assume."

The two departed the hospital, making it to the Burrow without problem, to find both the senior Weaseleys there. Molly greeted them with her usual enthusiasm.

"Oh Harry!" she beamed, releasing him from a hug as she leaned over to kiss her son on the cheek, "Ron! Have the two of you been staying well? Are you hungry? Pf," the mother tweaked the young redhead's nose, "Well of course _you_ are," she chortled before either could answer, stepping away from the aurors and walking toward the kitchen, "Make yourselves comfortable and I'll have something for you."

"Actually, Mrs. Weaseley," Harry raised his voice, "We need your help."

The mother immediately spun around and stopped moving, "Oh," she seemed vaguely worried, "Is something wrong? You're not hurt are you, dear?"

"It's Alan, Mum," Ron informed, "Mihai thinks he knows a way to help him, but the guy isn't going for it."

"I don't blame him for not trusting a vampire's idea," Arthur dove in, from his seat on the couch, "What is it, anyway?"

"He thinks by drinking blood from the vampire who had influenced him, we might be able to wean him off of their previous connection like a drug addict," Harry explained swiftly.

The elder couple looked nervously at each other and then the boys, "Will that not put him in danger?" the man asked.

"No. Mihai has confessed under the vow that it will give Lacrima no power over Alan," the lead auror replied, turning to his mother-in-law again, "Do you think you could talk some sense into him?"

"Bloke knows he's gonna die soon, but still refuses to try," the other auror shrugged.

Molly inhaled sharply, glancing down at her watch, "I can go talk to him, but I can't guarantee anything."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weaseley," Harry smiled.

The mother nodded, returning the grin before continuing toward the kitchen, "I'll grab something for him first."

She disappeared behind the wall, reproducing herself only a few moments later with a small basket appearing to have a collection of sweets. Without wasting time on a lengthy farewell, she simply waved and said she'd return shortly, then threw her powder.

"Well," Arthur addressed his sons, standing from the sofa, "While she's at it for the next hour, why don't we go fishing?"

The aurors agreed and the three wizards left the home, journeying to a lake not too far off from the marsh where flying seahorses were common. Hogwarts students were taught to be quite adequate in capturing the creatures since Professor Snape had required them to collect their own for potions class.

Girding potion was created from flying seahorses, fairy wings, dragonfly thoraxes, and doxy eggs. The brew gave its user extra endurance and was a typical thing to administer to both athletes and those healing.

Alan hadn't shown any significant improvement with treatment, but it seemed that the potion had a minor effect. Especially if Molly could get him to listen to reason, the potion would surely come in handy. Hospital staff could obviously obtain these things on their own, but the family had taken to ensuring Alan was never without.

So for the next fifty minutes, the small group made use of the seize and pull charm and managed to gather a fair amount of the animals. Carefully putting them into a travel container, they decided that a quarter past the hour was plenty of time for Molly to have been shooed out by staff, so returned to the house. Sure enough, the witch was back, placing the before promised snacks upon the small rounded table in the living room.

"So? How'd it go?" Ron inquired, his attention on grabbing chocolate biscuits as he took a seat.

"He agreed to try, but," Molly paused in preparation of the coming demands, "There are a few things he needs your promise on first."

Harry nodded and took the spot next to where his father-in-law sat, "What things?"

"That he not be forced to continue should he decide to stop at any point," the witch began, "As well, he requests that all the needed blood be gathered as quickly as possible so that the vampires can then remain completely unaware of his progress."

There was a subtle lilt in the woman's voice as though she was neglecting to say something. She went to stand beside her husband, waiting for her statements to be acknowledged.

"Is he upset that we spoke to Mihai about him?" Harry wondered.

"Oh you did nothing wrong, dear," Mrs. Weaseley assured, gaining a quizzical look from the boy, "But yes, a might. He's fully aware you'd never allow them anything pertinent to finding him."

"Yah," Ron observed, "We wouldn't say anything about him to them. Only reason we mentioned he was sick was because we wanted to save him."

"Yes, he knows," his mother smiled.

"Alright," Harry agreed, "I don't see a problem with any of that. Nothing more will be said to any of the vampires or to Gerald. And we will arrange to get the blood in as few trips as we can."

"And if he should die before this schedule is finished, I would suggest not to discontinue the collection process," Arthur hummed, "Out of respect for the promise to keep everything else about Alan a secret."

His wife patted his shoulder, strolling away to sit in her chair and pick up her current knitting project. The aurors nodded at their elder in solemn agreement and went on with their snacking. They'd have to speak with the minister in the morning to bring him up to speed. He'd likely have read their reports thus far, but this new deal with Alan hadn't been filed yet and the aurors did wish to touch base with him in person.

Their next meeting with Gerald and Mihai wasn't set for another couple of weeks: plenty of time for him to have spoken with his clan master about this experiment. Harry didn't really want to wait that long to get things started, so the moment details were hammered out on this end, he planned on seeking Gerald out to have him speak to Mihai.

The demon wasn't too hard to find. He still lived on Salt Box Road, only spending hours at a time away for his training with the other dark creatures. Also, he had managed to keep _The Devil's Children_ together despite his fallout with Oliver and the wizard's subsequent resignation from the band. Apparently, a guitarist had been hired to replace him, though Harry was yet to meet this new member or learn anything about him.

He had to assume he was a muggle, given the muggle nature of the band and Gerald's seeming distrust of magical folk. However, he could be wrong. Nonetheless, keeping his job meant that there was a clear trail to getting in touch with the musician. The auror actually kept a link to the band's showtimes and announcements bookmarked on his computer.

"What of Rookwood, then?" Arthur inquired, "I know you've been focused on this learning ordeal with the vampire whilst using it so that you may maintain a known presence in Gerald's life, but is there anything on the matter of his murder?"

"The ministry more or less has us running it in the background," Harry mused, "They'd prefer us to have made good use of this arrangement before possibly ticking the vampires off by charging Gerald."

"He has a point, ya know," Ron interjected, "About why we care about Rookwood being dead and all. He's a bloody psychopath and killed a ton of people, including Fred."

"That may be true," the auror's father sighed, "But it's pretty clear that Gerald went after Rookwood himself, neglecting to use proper procedure for bringing a criminal to justice. Without law, there is no regulation to ensure fairness for _all_.

"In addition, he _killed_ the man. Though I'm sure this was his intention, even _if_ it wasn't, when Rookwood died, Gerald didn't even have enough decency to come to authorities with a lie about how it was he who had been attacked. Instead of sending the two of you in the right direction or just saying they happened across each other and he merely defended himself, he presented a corpse to George in a public space as a gift."

"It is right fucked up, it is," Ron relented.

"Whether it was someone worthy of death or not," Harry chimed in, "If random citizens were allowed to just exact their own justice, then we'd end up with far too many making improper and unfair judgements. We _need_ the grueling process of law and trial like Mr. Weaseley said, to make sure there aren't any mistakes. That everyone receives fair trial."

"There will still be mistakes," Molly looked up from her work, magic continuing to weave though its pace slowed as she spoke solemnly, "Which is why we don't use the death penalty. Remember Sirius. We were all certain of his betrayal...and we were all wrong. What if he'd been sentenced to die instead of sent to Azkaban?"

The room became awkwardly somber, realizing it was a sensitive topic for Harry. Ron even ceased eating momentarily, gaze flitting from looking at the others, down to the half-eaten cookie in his hand. The lead auror took a few deep breaths in perfect understanding of the sudden change in atmosphere.

"Exactly," he nodded, staring blankly before him, "Things would have been a lot different had he not escaped...had we not had his help or had I not had my godfather in my life, however briefly."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: The part about the seahorse fishing, girding potion, and Snape is canon, but I did presume the bit about giving it to athletes and patients.

Questions: What are your thoughts on capital punishment (death sentence)? Does this exist in your country?


	5. Chapter 4: The Cat's Out

"Astoria?"

"Oh Harry, how opportune," the reporter cooed upon seeing the aurors.

"Opportune?" Ron questioned.

"Yes, you see, I was just attempting to get the first interview with Gerald Davis before the vultures descend," Astoria smiled smugly.

"Funny you don't count yourself with them," the redhead muttered.

Harry gave his partner a slight look before focusing on Greengrass, "I really don't think that's a good idea. You, of all people, should know he's dangerous in unconventional ways."

"No wizard is going to scare me away from doing my duty as a journalist to inform the people of what is happening around them," the witch returned, "Not a wandless one and not a demon either."

"You do realize there are some details about this case which you're not allowed to share, right?" Harry accused.

"Unless he admits them to me himself," Draco's girlfriend grinned, "Then it's fair game."

"There's absolutely no way he'd willingly tell you any of that. How did you even find out where he lives?" the lead auror continued, glancing at the home on Salt Box Road that they had just approached when bumping into the woman.

"I'm good at my job," she replied simply, "Now, you're clearly here on business so don't let me interrupt. I'll just follow behind and wait my turn."

The aurors exchanged annoyed glances before continuing forward. They knew Gerald would have nothing to do with reporters; he only tolerated the two of them because he was under legal obligation. Nonetheless, they didn't like the idea of anyone interviewing him. These people could be insanely persistent and the demon didn't handle pressure well.

However, Astoria was right about their inability to keep any journalists away, and since she had come this far, it was only a matter of time before more found him too. Harry lifted a fist and knocked on the wooden door, simultaneously rolling his eyes in the direction of the witch.

"Back so soon?" the group was nearly instantly greeted by the coy smile of Gerald Davis behind the cracked entrance, his gaze trailing toward the unknown third party.

"We needed an update on..." Harry sighed, twisting to Astoria and complaining, "We need to discuss the case."

"Ah. She's not with you, then," the white-haired man opened the door to present himself further, crossing arms as he studied the wizards on his doorstep.

"No, she's a reporter," the lead auror answered, "Might the two of us come in?"

"Certainly," Gerald stepped to the side to let them pass whilst keeping a stare on the witch.

He lingered there a moment before following the investigators inside and shutting the entrance again. In the living room once more, the three sat in their familiar formation. It was still early afternoon and therefore no sign of Mihai. Between dealing with vampires and with wizards, the demon's schedule must be very erratic.

"I'll start by reminding that it's best that you not tell anyone about your wandless capabilities or your species," Harry said once everyone was comfortable.

He gave this small warning despite being sure Gerald didn't yet know that Astoria knew these things about him. He'd have given him the heads-up, if it weren't for not wishing to reveal _how_ she knew this already. It could be argued that Gerald held no ill will for Draco, considering how he'd forced Lucius to tell the boy the truth of using his son, but nonetheless, it wasn't a definite. He could just as easily perceive Astoria or Draco as threats.

"It's not something I've ever shared with anyone of my own accord," the demon began strongly, but near the end, there was a different inflection showing as an eye twinge.

It was a a tick the aurors had encountered during multiple investigations. Either at some point in his speech, Gerald realized he was lying, or another thought struck him that he was now contemplating whether to share or not. Whatever it was, he didn't enlighten his guests; merely adding, "So you have nothing to worry about."

"Unless you accidentally let it slip," Ron pointed.

"I don't entertain company. It's hard to let things slip to someone who isn't around," Gerald shrugged, "What exactly did you need?"

"Alan has agreed to try the therapy Mihai suggested," the lead auror moved on, "Can the two of you begin collecting the blood?"

"That was quick," the demon observed, leaning back in his seat, stretching arms along the length of the couch, "I don't know if he's spoken with her yet, but I will inform Mihai immediately. Was that all?"

"Unless you have something you'd like to share with us," Harry raised an eyebrow.

"No," the dark wizard's slightly amused demeanor suddenly turned cold, his eyes resting darkly upon his guests.

"Then we'll be on our way and look forward to hearing something soon," the aurors lifted out of their seats with Harry's solemn parting words.

Outside, they found Astoria waiting patiently. As the aurors passed her on the doorstep, shutting the home behind them, Ron twisted his head in her direction, "Good luck," he scoffed.

His partner didn't make any acknowledgement of them and simply continued walking down the concrete sidewalk. Nothing was heard from the witch until she firmly rapped on the wooden door. The departing wizards didn't even have time to shake their heads before the sound of the home clicking open came, drawing them to spin around and place sights on Gerald, welcoming the reporter inside.

Astoria subtlety threw a smirk toward the aurors as she stepped over the threshold and disappeared along with the dark wizard, who likewise gave a small nod at the men. About five feet from the others, the aurors stopped and gawked at the closed residence.

"Blimey. That can't be good, can it?" Ron observed when they were alone.

Harry sighed.

"What do you suppose he's up to?" the redhead carried on musing.

"I don't know," the lead auror was thoroughly stooped, his brain trying to formulate reasoning for such an instant, blatant display of the demon contradicting himself. That twitch...it had been a thought that struck Gerald, but what was it?

"Think we should stick around for a bit?" Ron asked.

"I'm considering it," Harry admitted.

"You think Draco knows she's here?" Ron wondered.

"Don't think it matters," the lead auror shrugged, "I think Astoria would go through with 'her duty' either way."

The redhead's chuckle at his partner's sarcastic remark was interrupted by the home they'd been focused on slinging open again. Astoria presented herself first, trotting down toward the aurors with a beam spread across her face. Behind her, Gerald stood propped in the door frame.

"That was an amazingly short interview," Ron commented as the witch passed them.

Astoria, however, only turned her grin on him, never ceasing her walk. The two wizards barely twisted to watch her make it to the end of the way, then cut to the left and vanish from view.

"Thought you didn't entertain guests," the lead auror's attention was upon the home owner.

"You've convinced me to make a change," the demon's voice was thick as he crossed his arms and stared coldly at Harry.

"How is that, mate?" the other auror spoke up.

Gerald looked to him, "By being just like everyone else."

His gaze lingered on the two for only a moment before he spun around and went inside, leaving those vague statements as their only clue to what was really going on. Harry spun just the same after another second longer, his footsteps landing heavily on the concrete. His partner skipped forward to catch up with his suddenly determined friend.

"We need to come back tonight," the lead auror informed when the redhead was at his side.

"To speak to Mihai?" Ron inquired.

"To see if Astoria returns."

There was a short pause while Ron contemplated his partner's reasoning, "You don't think he plans on introducing her to the vampire, do you?"

"Astoria was happy when she left. Conceitedly so, yet she couldn't have learned anything from him in the less than five minutes they were together," Harry's thoughts rushed out, "Meaning she _is_ gaining something from him, but not now...maybe not even here."

"Can't argue that logic. But why?" Ron wondered.

"He says he's making a change based on the fact that everyone is the same," Harry mused, "I think...I think he's planning on telling her the truth, or at least some of it."

"Bugger off," the redhead scoffed, "What good could that possibly do him?"

"I'm not sure," Harry sighed, "Perhaps to curve it in his favor? Play the victim, which he's good at doing, or maybe he thinks since he's the deciding factor in how much information on this case actually gets out, confessing things would simply cause us trouble."

"He can't just tell her everything though," Ron pointed, "He's legally obligated to keep-"

"Some things secret?" the lead auror halted in his tracks and faced his partner, "I would imagine with his history, he's aware that there's really nothing that can be done if he talks. Even if there were, it's already out at that point and charging him will only paint the Ministry as the villain."

"I see what you mean," Ron scratched behind his ear, "We'd be dealing with so much of a mess that we'd be forced to lighten our position. Hovering over him and all, you know. Maybe he'll do it just to shove attention on the vampires so he can fade into the background."

"He'll have to be very careful on what he says though," Harry hummed, "Depending on what he shares, we will not only have to speak up as well, but we'll have information to counter him."

"So he can't really lie unless he's hiding things we also want hidden..."

"Exactly," Harry agreed, "And even then, if he decides to toy with us by lying, we still have the truth of who he is to make sure the others see through it."

"The thing that's bothering me is that if this is his plan, Astoria already knows a lot about him," Ron stated, "What if he knows that? Maybe she didn't stop by to interview him, but instead to warn him what she was going to print about him?"

"Hm, maybe..." Harry's brow furrowed, "Stopping by, conveniently at the same time we did, could have simply been a ruse to make it look like he _did_ confess to her. It would also explain the speedy meeting," the auror rubbed his chin, glanced in the direction of the home, and then continued down the path, "He could have let her in to mess with us and never have expected what she had in store. Either way, we need to keep an eye on the place to see if she returns."

After the investigators had made up their minds, they departed to finish up with a few hours of tedious office work. This included checking in with the media outlets to see if anything more had yet been published about Gerald or his vampiric friends. So far, it seemed that Astoria was indeed the first vulture. Outside of the initial wave of information regarding the existence of vampires in general, and Gerald's presence as a reformed dark wizard, nothing else had been written.

"No answer?" Ron asked upon hearing his partner replace the phone on its stand.

"None," Harry confirmed, leaning back and rotating absentmindedly in his desk chair.

"Nothing on Zudd's end either, so I guess that's a good sign," the redhead argued while finally setting down his quill for the day.

The aurors had enlisted Officer Timothy Zudd to keep tabs on the Davis residence until they completed their other tasks for the day. They'd later decided to call up Draco to touch base while seeing if he knew what his girlfriend was up to. However, the ex-deatheater had not answered. The two of them had stayed busy enough that they'd neglected to see what the young Malfoy was up to since that day when the ghost of his father had finally been released.

Ron started to stand, grabbing his cloak off the rack in the corner near him, "Well, it's four thirty. I'm going to let Hermione know what's up. You want to meet on Salt Box at nightfall?"

"Just before," Harry nodded, spinning to either side once more before raising to his feet as well, "And bring Hermione with you."

"Alright, mate," the redhead opened the door and turned to see the other wizard, "You coming?"

Harry had finished collecting his own coat and briefcase by that time and nodded again at his partner. The pair traveled in silence to the Ministry's fireplaces where they saw each other off.

"Ginny?" the auror called after stepping out of the flame and into his home.

Instantly, he was greeted by a piece of parchment, folded in the shape of a tiny phoenix, flying toward him. The paper bird stopped in front of his face and opened its beak to relay a message in his wife's voice.

"I'm out practicing with with Eliza and Rupert. I'll be home before the sun is down, so don't worry. Make sure you eat. I love you."

Once her words had ended, the phoenix closed its mouth and burst into flame, destroying the entirety of the paper which constructed it. Harry had been taking off his cloak and loosening his dress robes to make himself comfortable while she spoke, figuring he wouldn't yet change clothes as per his arrangement that evening.

Instead, he simply took off his over-shirt and tie, then made his way to the kitchen in order to obey his wife. With a small meal in his stomach, he strolled toward the couch and worked on the laundry that had been left there, successfully occupying the time until Ginny returned with attempting to do this and a few other small chores as successfully as the witch.

"Oh, thank you for finishing up for me," she smiled at the man whilst placing a kiss on his cheek, "Was your day eventful?"

Throwing his arms around her waist and pulling her to sit on his lap as he fell backward onto the couch, the auror gave an outline of what had gone on with him, which she reciprocated with a retelling of her own.

"I wish I could be more involved," Ginny sighed, leaning over onto the wizard, her arms loosely looping his neck.

"I do too. It's much different than being in school. We actually have to follow the rules," Harry laughed, "Well," he patted her back and began inching upward from the seat, "I should go."

"Be careful," Ginny gave him a tight hug once they were both standing, gratefully accepting his lips' invitation to part hers.

Satisfied with their passionate farewell, Harry set forth once more to Salt Box Road to see Ron and Hermione had beaten him there. They were standing with Timothy just on the other side of the bushes that lined the front of the property.

"No activity so far," the officer greeted the lead auror.

"Thanks," Harry nodded, "We appreciate it."

"Of course. That's what I'm here for," Zudd smiled, "I'll be off then. Do give a ring if you need anything else."

With that, he apparated, leaving Harry to turn his attention on the other two, "I imagine in the very least, we will see Mihai drop by soon after twilight."

"Or Astoria even sooner..." Hermione murmured, staring beyond where Harry stood.

The wizards twisted to see where she was looking and sure enough, their vision produced Ms. Greengrass having appeared only meters away, smirking as she approached, "Oh don't tell me you were worried for little me?" she baited mockingly.


	6. Chapter 5: Anticipation

"Not in the slightest," the lead auror threw shade at the reporter with deliberate pause, "Simply about for regular rounds."

"Hmph," Astoria's smirk faltered, seemingly annoyed as she pressed by the trio and onward to Gerald's residence, "Well don't let me get in the way. I have business of my own to attend to."

"So you actually got an interview?" Ron couldn't help to ask the moment the witch's back was facing them.

She continued on her way, not bothering to glance back, "Oh I definitely got something."

Before the aurors had time to contemplate her meaning, another familiar person presented themselves, "It appears as though I'm late for the party."

Everyone, including the journalist, spun toward the way each of them had come, laying sights on Mihai and his obviously high-strung canine, who was tugging at her leash upon sight of the humans. With a small ticking sound from her master, however, she sat, somewhat calming herself while vigorously whacking her tail against the concrete.

"Considering I am early," Astoria's coy smile had returned as she once more approached the group, "I'm certain you're just fine."

Harry turned from the witch to the vampire, who wore a blank expression as he blinked at the woman. If it hadn't been for the fact that the investigators had already witnessed Mr. Illeiscu's threatening demeanor, this might have been mistaken as such. As it stood, he instead simply seemed confused.

"I take it this is news to you as well?" Hermione was the one to speak up.

"Indeed," the vampire confirmed, "I merely awoke to a message from Gerald asking me to drop by this evening."

"He's invited me over to- well," Astoria's voice betrayed how unsettled she was with Mihai's sudden and intimidating appearance, "I guess that's for him to say."

The vampire remained stoic as he stared her down and it would have been a lie to say the aurors didn't take some minor enjoyment in the witch losing her attitude. Nonetheless, the present possibility of danger overshadowed any show of this.

"Astoria...Greengrass," the reporter offered her hand shakily, awkwardly retreating it when it wasn't immediately taken, and instead giving a small bow, "I write for-"

"Forgive me, madam," the vampire oddly found his manners, copying her bow, but with more certainty than she had, "I did only just awaken and was not informed of the night's affair. Gerald can be...lackadaisical at times," he stepped forward, holding out the arm which wasn't attached to his dog, "You're a journalist of sorts, I take it?"

Astoria, clearly feeling a small amount of comfort with his switch in demeanor, accepted the apology and Mihai's arm. The three left behind observed the pair until they had disappeared around the hedge, the witch explaining herself most of the way.

"I don't like this," Hermione complained the moment they were gone.

"Honestly, I don't plan on trouble," Harry informed, "They know we're here. I don't believe either of them to be stupid enough to try hurting her. Definitely not Mihai anyway, which I'm sure means he won't allow Gerald to."

"Could be why he wanted Mihi around," Ron interjected, "In case he loses control...but I still think we should check Astoria for bites when she leaves."

"What are we going to do? Have her strip?" Hermione scoffed, "All that needs to be done is asking Mihai how to tell if someone is being controlled other than looking for wounds."

"Didn't think about that," the redhead shrugged, "Should do that then, yeah?"

"Yeah..." the lead auror was distracted, "I'm just wondering what exactly the plan here is...what's Gerald wanting out of this? And what's actually going on in there?"

"I suppose it's just a waiting game now," Hermione sighed, "Either one of them will speak to us when this meeting is done, or we'll read the paper in the morning."

Harry gave a solemn nod and began leading the trio once more to 14 Salt Box Road. Truthfully, he wasn't sure why they were even there, other than to ensure the safety of that small-minded witch and for the hope that they'd be given a heads up as to what to expect before her article ran. Neither of which he expected to happen, but then again...he hadn't expected Gerald to open his home to anyone either, and certainly not _twice_. Wasn't it better safe than sorry?

The auror had been trying to convince himself ever since the dark wizards- or dark creatures, rather- had been released from Azkaban that perhaps he was too on edge about the whole ordeal. He and his friends had lived through the second age of Lord Voldemort, the most evil wizard to have ever been known. Logically speaking, it was quite a rare happenstance for such a thing to occur, given the small span of years that was Voldemort's reign compared to the rest of history.

Despite multiple other cases involving terrible abuse and murder, none had unsettled him as much as the Davis case and he knew this was simply because Gerald had a history with the Dark Lord. Even with the other extraordinary features, including the vampires, demons, even Grindelwald...Harry was certain he wouldn't be as bothered if the name Tom Riddle wasn't also attached.

However, the fact that Gerald was both the old friend and pupil of the most evil wizard, as well as the son and experiment of the second, did play a good deal into the wariness he had whilst dealing with him. Nonetheless, the overall chances of anyone involved now to be even in the highest three of of these evil men was quite low. Rationally thinking, that is...but rational thought wasn't always easy and neither did it guarantee its own truth.

After the three had been loitering about the outside of the home for around twenty minutes, having concluded there was no point in trying to hide themselves, Ron decided to break the silence, "Wonder how much longer? Haven't heard anything, so I figure it's going well."

Hermione lifted a brow at her husband as if to call out the absurdity of his statement, only for Harry to beat her to speaking, "No noise or sudden bursts through the door at least means that she's not been scared off."

The redhead didn't appear to realize the others meant to point out the error in his thought as he simply agreed with a whispered 'yeah' while keeping his gaze trained on the door he'd been standing in front of, "I'm getting hungry."

"You ate before we left," the witch scowled, "You're just bored."

"Either way," her husband turned to face her, slouching as he reached hands into pockets. When the auror decided to trot further from the door, closer to where the others had positioned themselves in chairs on the lawn, the home opened, allowing Astoria to walk out.

Her expression didn't immediately give anything away. She looked neither frightened nor confused, yet there was also no sign of a smirk...until she threw her bag over her shoulder and looked directly at the group, "Unfortunately, I don't have time for any more chatting tonight," she grinned, "I have a lot of work to be done before morning."

Just as earlier, she continued on her way, hardly even glancing backward when the three realized that she'd left the door open behind her and Gerald had stepped out. He stood right inside the threshold, lighting what appeared to be a cigar. In the shadows of the hallway beyond, Mihai's form could be seen standing far enough within that he could keep an eye on the situation without being part of it.

"Here to aggravate me?" he mumbled sarcastically while fumbling with his lighter. His tone didn't show it, but his hands were shaking nervously. All three of them noticed it and none of them said a word until the demon had successfully lit his smoke and lifted his sight to them.

"No," Harry cleared his throat, voice calmer than he was actually feeling, "Just hoping you'd give us a clue as to what this was all about so we could prepare for tomorrow. You should know they press often brings on more undesirable attention than is warranted."

"Press is same everywhere," Gerald took a puff and focused his eyes into the distance, "America, Britain...Muggle, Magical..." it seemed that his thoughts were scattered, so the others waited to see if he had more to add to this observation, which he did after several moments, "And in my line of work, I've dealt with them a lot. Though," another puff, "I've never willingly given information to a witch's journal..."

Harry and his companions exchanged looks, "I take it that's a no on our end?" the lead auror prompted.

The demon focused blue eyes on the wizard then, "You should know...that you can never predict how they'll use your words. I guess we'll both find out what she has to say tomorrow."

Harry took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling as he prepared his next question with equal calm, attempting the vampire's tactic, "That's true. However, I would prefer to hear your side first."

Gerald had removed his vision to place attention on seemingly nothing while he kept smoking. By this time, the smell had reached Harry, who was doubting that it was tobacco the man had been inhaling. The scene remained quiet for an uncomfortable length of time to where the auror decided it was just best that they leave, when the demon added one last comment before rotating and strolling inside.

"You wouldn't believe my word; you will believe hers, though. I guarantee it."

The wizard felt himself losing patience as Gerald retreated, yet he couldn't choose an action because the demon's presence was instantly replaced with Mihai, who had gone to close the door his friend had absentmindedly left ajar. His sudden speed was still unnerving.

"I don't suppose you have something to share with us?" the auror quickly inquired of the vampire instead.

The dark being cocked his head, "I'm not rocking that boat. I suggest some rest and an early rise."

For whatever reason, it seemed strange that he had sided with keeping Gerald content despite their relationship. Nonetheless, Harry admitted defeat, "Has he talked to you about-"

"The blood? Yes, in his message," Mihai confirmed, "We'll be heading to speak with Lacrima again shortly. I'm sure you'll have your answer by daylight, if you are with enough time to spare... Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"How can a person tell if someone is under the influence of a vampire? Without looking for bite marks?" the auror almost forgot to ask.

Mihai cracked the door further than he'd been holding it and straightened his stance, "I assure you that Ms. Greengrass is not under influence. However, to answer your question, stress. The most obvious pointer is a change in behavior, namely the amount of stress they seem to be exhibiting. Agitation, depressed mood, short temper, as well as physical symptoms such as weight loss, lack of sleep, hair loss, sullen eyes...

"You have to remember that a person who is not willingly under vampiric control is more or less running on auto pilot when not in the moment of being commanded to carry out a task. The changes may be subtle, but they'll be there. Otherwise, bite marks or simply cut the person. As you've no doubt seen with Alan, the poison a vampire uses can easily be seen in the blood if you draw enough of it."

Recalling the green liquid that had oozed from Alan's wounds when he finally broke Lacrima's hold on him, Harry accepted the answer as sufficient, "Thanks. We'll be on our way then."

"Very well," Mihai nodded, "Until our next meeting."

The home was sealed at last and the trio departed, supremely curious, yet not as agitated as Harry had anticipated. The auror did wonder why Gerald felt they would accept Astoria's story over his own. Granted they took everything that passed the demon's lips with a grain of salt, they had expressed their skepticism concerning the media as well.

It left them with the inclination to believe he had simply spoken to her on matters they already knew to be true. However, his dodgy attitude left a disquieting theory within the lead investigator's mind that perhaps some manner of concrete evidence had been given to the reporter. What it was evidence of, he couldn't quite decipher.

In the end, the three went to their own homes after a brief and unsatisfying discussion. Ginny was equally as helpless in comforting her husband or drawing any conclusion, leaving the young couple to simply hold one another and try to sleep with the severe anxiety building in Harry's mind.

 _'Harry. HARRY!'_

 _The auror shot upward in bed, shirtless chest heaving as his eyes became glued to the source of the voice. In the opposite corner, Gerald Davis stood, wearing nothing except for the skinny black pants that were so typical of him. His white mop of hair was completely drenched, the water crawling across his cheeks and dripping onto the floor._

 _Harry tried to speak, but was unable to find his voice. All he could do was stare back at the dark creature's red eyes boring into him, their black eyeliner smudged beneath to add to his already shadowed appearance. The younger wizard's vision looked down to the intruder's torso, once again taking in the sight of the presumed self-harm scars he had witnessed not long after their first meeting._

 _'Harry, I have a confession to make.'_

 _Eyes returned to Gerald's face, he realized that the demon's mouth had not moved, despite how unmistakable his voice was. Managing to cock his head, the auror dropped his jaw and breathed the start of a question, "What are-"_

 _Instantly, the demon was sitting on the mattress, his knees bent underneath him while his face was so near that Harry could feel the chilling water running off of his nose. Although he felt a jump in his heart, the auror amazingly refrained from movement._

 _'Harry, I have a confession to make.' The demon repeated the telepathic message, simultaneously lifting a wet hand and placing it on his target's shoulder._

 _'Gerald, what the hell is going on?' Harry thought, his words clearly heard by the demon, as his hand abruptly turned into a claw, pinching the skin on his shoulder-blade._

 _The dark being's mouth finally opened, but it wasn't words that left. Instead, the horrendous screech he'd emitted during previous battles sounded, the shrill noise completely overcoming the auror as everything returned to black._


	7. Chapter 6: MACUSA

"Morning, dear," Ginny greeted Harry while absentmindedly sipping from the coffee mug in her hands where she stood staring down at their dining table.

"I'm surprised you're up before me," the auror walked lazily over, his slowly waking mind gradually remembering the intense dream he'd had the past night, "Don't tell me..."

"Yup," the witch finally looked up at him as he put an arm over her shoulder and a quick kiss on her cheek, "I suppose Astoria had at least enough decency to make sure a copy of the Daily Prophet was sent to you this morning."

Retrieving his arm, Harry took the newspaper laying on the table that his wife had been focused on. Astoria's article had made the front page. The image of Gerald from the waist up, his eyes dazed and expression unamused, was accompanied by large text proclaiming, "Reformed Dark Wizard Reveals Terrifying Experience Living Amongst Deatheaters."

The auror looked to his wife who shrugged and took another sip of her drink, "Come sit down," she softly instructed while strolling around to their couch. Once seated comfortably next to his wife, who leaned over onto him, Harry read the rest of the piece aloud,

 _"When I first set out to speak with Gerald Davis, a previously discovered dark wizard with past ties to Lord Voldemort, I expected one of two things to happen: either I'd be denied time with him or would simply be informed of what we've already been told by the Ministry on his reformation. Therefore, I was thoroughly thrilled when instead, Mr. Davis invited me into his home and revealed an enthralling bit of information to me._

 _"Now, talk is talk and when dealing with those who are known to have committed acts of misconduct, we're leery about trusting simple words. Davis apparently anticipated this since he refused to waste my time by merely speaking with me. When I left our interview, I left with a valuable object: a memory pulled directly from Gerald Davis himself."_

Harry paused, quickly re-reading that last statement to be certain he caught its meaning properly. A memory? Dumbledore had a large store of his own within the pensieve in his office at Hogwarts, many of which were his recollections of others recalling their own experiences to the headmaster.

Harry had seen himself the altered memory Slughorn had shared, and while it was possible to alter these things prior to showing them, it came with an obvious pointer as to what part had been changed. If Gerald had made any changes to the event he'd allowed Astoria to have a copy of, she or others who viewed it would be able to tell if it was incomplete.

This meant surely this memory displayed an accurate representation of whatever 'terrifying experience' he had undergone. The aurors would definitely move to view it themselves, but for now, he focused on reading the article,

 _"Within was perhaps the most gruesome account of torture I've ever witnessed and I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish watching the days-long scene that was shared with me. It comes as no shock that anyone who had worked with Lord Voldemort would have seen such a sight. However, the surprise comes with the fact that the person subject to said torture...was Gerald Davis."_

Harry wasn't surprised as much as others may be. The demon had already mentioned his fight with 'Tom' and the subsequent treatment he had received for wanting to leave. Granted he hadn't gone into detail and there hadn't been a way to prove how truthful those comments had been...until now.

 _"Even though he hasn't hidden his involvement with and departure from the Dark Lord, nothing concrete concerning any crimes whilst in this service has ever been presented, leaving us where we've been for the past months: with simply a reformed wielder of evil magic who had managed to go unknown until his move into our country._

 _"While I'm unable to share this artifact or images with the public, the entire staff of The Daily Prophet including myself, can share this description with absolute and honest integrity as to its sincerity. As well, I'm certain the Auror's Department will also review and vouch for its content."_

Then she shouldn't give us any trouble when we ask for the memory, Harry thought.

 _"The event began with the Dark Lord approaching Davis, who was curled on the floor, and stating, 'I admire your standing before me rather than simply attempting to slink back into the shadows, but you can't think this was going to go well for you.' Voldemort then pulled out his wand, striking his ally repeatedly with the cruciatis curse._

 _"Also present in the room was Lucius Malfoy, who aided in restraining Davis in a dungeon following this initial session. I continued observing this, seeing days pass during which Gerald's torture increased in severity, using not only the unforgivable curse but other spells which included burning, cutting, and even suffocation and drowning tactics that were nearly successful in killing the man in several instances."_

 _'Harry, I have a confession to make,'_ the demon's haunting voice repeated in the auror's head while reading the drowning detail. In his dream, Gerald had been soaked in water...was there a connection here? Was there any reality to that dream at all or was it only Harry's overactive mind creating the scenario?

 _"After a period of weeks if not longer, Gerald's eyes opened from darkness just long enough for me to see he was laying in a graveyard, Voldemort standing idly by and looking down upon him. With these final words, the Dark Lord disappeared and the memory ended, 'You can go. I don't require your assistance any further...at present.'_

 _"While it remains unclear as to whether it is true, Davis maintains that it was his last encounter with Lord Voldemort, which occurred directly prior to the murder of James and Lily Potter. 'During his return,' Davis says, 'I never saw him in person and have been living in secret from the time he let me go up until I started my career as a musician.'_

 _"It is my understanding that the Ministry has been unable to gather any reliable information regarding crimes Davis may have committed before or after his claimed time with the Dark Lord, but he remains under investigation at this time in the interest of public safety."_

Harry's gaze lingered on the paper a moment longer before he folded it and set it to the side. It was interesting, but not as alarming anticipated. Gerald's purpose was likely offering proof that he had no desire for evil or ill will, and surprisingly, he had made a good bargain to this argument. Even Harry felt much apprehension regarding the case waning.

Of course, they would still have to see the memory to judge themselves, but if it was truthful, it did speak positively of the demon. Regardless of the murders of Malfoy and Rookwood, which he was clearly guilty of, it finally appeared Harry could have some peace of mind that Gerald wasn't some grave villain in the manner that both his father and teacher had been.

No, he was at last becoming certain that Gerald was simply a confused creature with a checkered past and a sketchy skill set. Perhaps all that needed to be done was convince him against being a vigilante, since it already appeared that he was attempting to understand the basics of morality, his aggression lessening as he was taught to control his beast.

 _I remember pain...a lot of pain..._

Solemnly remembering the ghostly look in Gerald's eyes when he had first shared with them the story of leaving Voldemort's side, Harry shuddered. He wasn't sure he wanted to view that memory. Even now he could feel the coldness of the demon's presence from in his nightmare.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Ginny lifted herself from her husband, casting a worried expression at him.

"It's just...I had this weird dream last night...about Gerald," his vision narrowed as he thought.

"What happened?" his wife's warm tone was soothing.

"He was standing in our bedroom. He looked like he'd just crawled out of a lake or something," the auror recalled, "He said there was something he wanted to tell me, but when I asked what it was, he just screeched and-"

Abruptly, the wizard twisted his neck to the side and pulled at the t-shirt he wore to inspect his shoulder. He'd mostly expected to see scratches there from the demon's visit, but he was completely unharmed.

"Did he hurt you?" Ginny's voice grew wondrous, catching onto the reason for Harry's sudden motion.

"I don't think it was intentional," he admitted, "When he put his hand on my shoulder, it turned into a claw."

"I'm sure it was just a bad dream," Ginny offered a supportive smile and rubbed his phantom injury, adding with a small chuckle, "He's a necromancer, not a dream demon."

Harry couldn't help a grin, "Yeah, you're probably right. Well, I guess it's time to actually start the day. That article isn't going to cause as much trouble as I thought, but Ron and I will still be busy with this memory business."

Unbeknownst to the aurors, Astoria's article wasn't going to be their focus for the next many hours. Ron had been gifted a copy of that morning's Daily Prophet too, making nearly the same conclusion as his partner. However, it was an urgent message from Minister Shackelbolt waiting for them in their office that informed of the real problem at present.

Apparently, the Magical Congress of the United States had been doing their best to keep up with any information they could on Gerald, despite having previously released responsibility of him to the Ministry. Recently, they had caught wind of his brief imprisonment in regards to attacking Ministry employees as well as his suspected involvement in the deaths of Lucius Malfoy and Augustus Rookwood.

"But sir, we've already had this conversation with MACUSA," Harry protested, "They can't just acknowledge our jurisdiction and then disregard it when they happen to decide they don't like how we're handling the case."

"As much as I'd like to agree with you," Shackelbolt unfolded the pyramid his hands had been making in front of his mouth while he thought, "I'm afraid we have to confer."

"We've already gotten the bloke ID'd," Ron started in, cut short by the Minister.

"Unfortunately that is not enough to concrete Gerald as a citizen. He's not been living here or involved in our system long enough. Even if it were," the elder wizard sighed, "This is a matter of diplomacy. Keeping our seniority on the case isn't worth the possible strain it could put on the already tenuous relationship between our countries."

"So what then?" the lead auror leaned back in his seat, aggravated at this progression.

"An auror and representative from MACUSA are already on their way," Shackelbolt informed, "I would expect them to be here tomorrow at the latest. I have a meeting with the President in less than an hour. Contact Gerald and speak with him on the matter of Mr. Jameson and get in touch with Ms. Greengrass to relieve her of that memory. I've had an order signed and placed in your office to ensure your business at the Daily Prophet is swift."

The Minister rose and strolled around his desk, gesturing toward the door to his office while adding, "Speak with me again when you are done."

With heavy feet and exasperated shakes, the aurors took the dismissal and set to work. Thankfully, the Minister's order was all that was needed to immediately acquire the memory Astoria had written about. Returning first to place the vial containing it in safe keeping with the unspeakables, Harry and Ron put forward for Salt Box Road.

The wizard's aggravation showed through in his impatient pounds on the residence as the two waited for the owner's familiar white hair to emerge. After three unanswered grouping of knocks, Ron exhaled loudly, "Think he's done passed out drunk or something?"

"I don't know- GERALD!" Harry growled, angrily banging on the door again, "GERALD! IT'S HARRY AND IT'S IMPORTANT!"

"Can I help you two?"

The pair spun around, hearts skipping a beat as they placed eyes on an older gentleman they hadn't seen approach during their distraction, "Um..." Harry swallowed, "We're looking for Gerald."

"Who?" the stranger, dressed in a brown suit, furrowed his brow, "Oh right right. Hm... I don't know where he is. I'm just here to make sure everything is in order before I list the house."

"List?" Ron inquired.

"For sale," the man hummed, "Your friend Gerald hired my agency yesterday afternoon to get the place sold. He seemed to be in a rush. Payed extra to have me come out first thing."

"I don't fucking believe this," the redhead cursed, turning toward Harry, "He's skipping town."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Sooooo I'm not 100% sure on the information regarding the alteration of memories; I just inferred from what happened in the movies. If someone knows definitively, please let me know, but for the purpose of this story, what I wrote above is going to be accurate lol**


	8. Chapter 7: The Edge

"Back so soon?" Ginny was clearly surprised by the sudden reappearance of her husband, now accompanied by her youngest brother.

"We're trying to find Gerald," Ron shrugged.

"Find?" the witch's perplexed expression continued.

"He's apparently left his house and put it up for sale, but if I remember correctly," Harry had immediately set forth for his computer, not bothering to sit as he powered it on and began using the mouse to search around, "Yeah, that's what I thought," he informed while straightening his spine and pointing at the screen, "His band has a show in London tomorrow."

"He could have skipped out on that too," the other auror enlightened.

"If he is," Ginny strolled toward the machine and read the internet page displaying the showtimes of _The Devil's Children_ , "He hasn't told anyone yet. There would be a cancellation notice posted."

"Do you still have the number for his agent?" Ron wondered.

Without answer, Harry slid his cell phone out of his pocket, quickly dialed one of his contacts, and put it to his ear. She would be the first to know, had Gerald said something. Since the man seemed to place such a high importance on his music, largely founded by the fact of keeping the band together despite fleeing to Britain and the subsequent loss of Oliver, the auror was certain he'd have let her on to the fact he planned not to show.

"Joyce Letterman, Publicist and Agent. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to today?" the woman's voice was a cut and paste version of the first time they'd spoken.

"I'm sorry to bother you," Harry started politely, "But I didn't know who to contact."

"It's no bother at all!" Joyce hardly waited for a second of silence to respond in the same chipper tone, "I would be glad to help in any way that I can."

"Right..." he continued awkwardly, "I heard rumor that _The Devil's Children_ was cancelling their show for tomorrow evening in London and I just wanted to make sure before I made the trip."

"Oh of course! I completely understand. I can assure you that no change has been made to the band's schedule and they will be on stage at the center in London tomorrow as planned."

"Thanks, but you see," Harry pried, "I've been told that Gerald Davis is pretty flaky. Is it possible that he didn't tell you and he might be a no-show?"

"I understand your concern," the woman's voice slowed, as if she was finally taking the call seriously, "I've worked with Gerald almost since the beginning of his career and he's always been the epitome of professional. If something were to have occurred to keep him from showing, I would have been informed immediately and at so close to show...I'm positive only death would have kept him from appearing."

"You sound very confident in him," the auror realized that at this point, he was coming off as a creep.

"I am," Joyce stated plainly, "I take it you're either a new fan or not a fan at all. Might I direct you to the band's website archives, where you'll find instances to back up my conviction?" Although her tone remained friendly, it was clear she was either annoyed or unsettled.

"I'm actually on the site right now. I don't see the archives though," Harry leaned over the desk again.

"I'm not surprised," she laughed, "The color scheme has it almost hidden. Nobody knew it was there for the longest, but Gerald and the others seem to want it kept this way. If you click anywhere on the main home page and press the control and 'A' buttons on your keyboard..."

The wizard did as was instructed of him and all text on the page was instantly highlighted in blue, including all the tabs, buttons, and pictures. Where there had previously been five tabs in the navigation bar, a sixth now appeared, its text clearly reading 'archive.'

"I found it," Harry spoke absentmindedly into the telephone.

"Good!" the woman almost cheered, "Now if you click there, a search bar will appear on the new page. You'll need to make two different searches: the first for 'bloodied' and the second for 'collapsed.' From there, the articles I'm talking about should be one of the first, if not the top, results. There may be another incident that escapes me right now, but-"

"It's fine," he interrupted, already having typed in the first key word, "Thank you for your time."

The agent's voice could barely be heard happily chattering a closing response while Harry removed the phone from his cheek and turned it off, laying it upon the desk instead of returning it to his pocket. There were three results, the second of which obviously being what she'd been referring to.

 _Gerald's Bloodied Appearance at Last Night's Show Rattles Audience_

The lead auror decided to take a seat then, glancing at the two others who, likewise, were taking positions closer to the screen. Even so, he figured he'd read aloud. Clicking on the link, he was redirected to a blog post from the site itself with a picture of Gerald, nonchalantly singing despite the odd look that could be seen on Oliver's face in the background while he studied his companion.

He was indeed bloodied. His upper lip was stained from an obvious nose injury, there were scratches on both cheeks, and even the knuckles grasping the microphone were damaged and red. In addition, he donned tattered and dirty black attire and a bruised eye to match.

 _"The Devil's Children show in Chicago last night began quite oddly when lead singer Gerald Davis took the stage, seemingly straight out of a fight, with no comment on his unusual appearance. The other band members, Oliver Smith and Brad Angston, made their own confusion known after performing the first song of the night._

 _"The guitarist approached the singer when the initial performance ended and the two could be seen discussing something before Gerald addressed the audience, sharing that he had, in fact, been involved in a fight not even an hour prior to the show. A noisy response came from the audience, ranging from concerned mumbles to energetic shouts._

 _"It was a VIP attendee in the first row who attempted to ask what the fight had been about. As they repeated their question, enough of the crowd surrounding the area hushed, also wanting an answer to the inquiry. 'Beer,' Gerald laughed, sending the audience into another roar."_

Ignoring the links at the bottom of the page leading to third-party news accounts of the event, Harry quickly returned to the archive search bar, typing in 'collapsed' and then hitting the enter button. This time, the screen displayed a sole entry.

 _Oliver Barely Catches A Collapsed Gerald During Hometown Rock Event_

 _"During this morning's show at Edgefest in Little Rock, The Devil's Children lead singer suddenly collapsed after pausing mid-song. 'I knew something was wrong when he stopped singing,' Oliver recounted, 'That's why I went to him. He never stops a performance.'_

 _"While that may be true, the band was without choice except to halt the music and attend to their fallen member. Barely lucid and with slurred speech, Gerald protested emergency aid's insistence that he be transported to the hospital, complaining that he 'was fine, just give me a minute.'_

 _"After half an hour, the singer regained himself, though EMTs continued to urge him to seek further medical attention. Nonetheless, Gerald refused and the band went on to finish their performance once all the other bands had finished their segments. It was later determined that acute stress was the cause of the blackout."_

The picture displayed alongside this piece was simply the band performing on stage during the outside summer rock music event known as Edgefest. Harry's mind returned to the title, 'Hometown.' Did that mean Gerald's hometown?

Leaving the archive section, the auror clicked on the member biography page while his wife and partner simply followed with their eyes, waiting for him to explain what he was doing. Scrolling past the band's history and to the bottom of the page, he scanned for information on the members individually rather than the group as a whole.

He'd already read through the page before, but he wondered if perhaps he'd forgotten a detail. Missing the links the first time, he carefully scrolled again and clicked on Gerald's name the moment he saw it.

The singer's biography was vague. Mostly it spoke on his passion as a musician and his personality. The mentions of home or family more or less only said that he'd traveled constantly his entire life and had no living relatives. The only absolute detail regarding his origin was that he was Southern, having spent most of his childhood in the state of Arkansas.

Switching to a new tab, Harry's fingers rapidly typed in 'Edgefest Little Rock.' Sure enough, the city was the capital of Arkansas state in the US. As per his muggle lifestyle, Harry questioned how many legal documents Gerald had to smudge or delete. It was their understanding that he still used his birth name, despite living openly in a world that would surely become suspicious if they knew his longevity.

With a heavy sigh, the lead auror leaned back in his chair, "Looks like we'll be attending the concert tomorrow."

"It's not really my type of music, mate," Ron replied, drawing the agitated gazes of both his partner and his sister, "Blimey, I was just kidding," he threw hands up apologetically and backed away, "I don't figure Oliver knows anything, yah?"

"I doubt it," Harry shrugged, "After he was released from house arrest though, we haven't spoken with him or with Stephen and Mary. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to check in before we speak to the Minister again."

Rolling his seat to the side, the wizard stood, giving his wife a brief hug as she bid him farewell. The aurors then took a stance beside the fireplace, apparating instead of using floo powder. Outside of Oliver's retirement from the band, they really hadn't a clue what he'd been up to.

"Mr. Potter," Stephen Smith greeted sternly after opening his Dunfold residence to see the aurors, "I thought Ollie had completed his sentence."

"He has," Harry assured, "It's not that."

"Then I assume it's more questions about Gerald," the man huffed, "In that case, I have to kindly ask you to leave. Oliver is done with him and I won't have him further upset."

"Mr. Smith, we understand your frustration, but we simply wanted-"

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but no. Unless you're with some legal mandate for Ollie to speak to you, then please leave," Stephen repeated.

Harry nodded solemnly, brushing off the typically kind man's harsh demeanor, "I understand. Thank you for your time."

The auror half-expected to be called back when he turned around and began walking off with his partner. However, the only sound that was heard was the door clicking shut. Nothing more needed to be said for the two to know it was time to return to the ministry. Surely the meeting with the President was over.

To their surprise, they were let into Shackelbolt's office immediately, greeted by the sight of not only him, but the wispy outline of MACUSA's leader through use of a projection charm. The pair strolled in uncertainly, taking a place next to the Minister's outstretched arm.

"Madam President, may I introduce you to Harry Potter and Ronald Weasely, the leaders for our Investigations Department," Shackelbolt spoke.

"Madam President," the aurors politely bowed.

"Your reputation proceeds you, sirs," the woman's tone was reserved with a slightly condescending inflection, "The Davis case must have presented some problems much too unique for even your expertise, however."

Harry wasn't sure if he was meant to respond or not; something the President clearly picked up on since she instead carried on, "I'm sure with the presence of our own, you'll find the help you need with handling our friend, Mr. Davis."

"Of course," Shackelbolt stepped in, "There is no doubt that we will come to a reasonable conclusion soon. Until then, we look forward to meeting your representatives."

The fog tilted her head in acknowledgement and promptly disappeared, leaving the three British wizards alone. The Minister, lifting his brow so strictly it seemed he wanted to roll his eyes instead, traipsed around the corner of the desk where he'd been standing and sat.

"Your business is done?" he asked, turning attention to a paper laying in front of him.

Harry didn't wish to be the bearer of bad news to a clearly already stressed man, "The memory is with Professor Croaker, but...we were unable to find Gerald."

Shackelbolt looked up with a critical gaze, "What?"

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Edgefest is an actual event that takes place in May in Little Rock, Arkansas every year. It's named for the local rock radio station 'The Edge' and involves multiple famous rock bands, the lineup varying from year to year.**


	9. Chapter 8: Blood Oath

_'Why do you insist on wasting time like this?' Voldemort strolled forward in the shadows, slowly approaching Gerald, who was on his knees, head hung, and arms chained tightly to the dirty brick wall behind him, 'Surely simply obeying your master is so much easier than all this.'_

 _The Dark Lord crouched in front of the other man, taking his chin hand, pointed nails digging into pale flesh, accompanied now with the odd presence of whitened facial hair despite his young appearance. Forcing the prisoner to face him, an intense emotion could be seen in the demon's blue eyes, but it wasn't one of hatred or anger nor was it of depression...not even apathy._

 _Somehow, those glossy spheres conveyed an overwhelming feeling of betrayal...like a lover who'd been scorned and yet was still obsessed with the one who wronged him, or a mother who couldn't accept that the child she had raised, caring for without condition, was cruel and evil._

 _'I know you too well, old friend,' Voldemort's emotionless gaze remained on a seemingly broken-hearted Gerald. After a moment without word from either, he rose once more to his feet and withdrew his wand. With a quick twirl of his wrist, he summoned a bubble of water around his victim's head._

 _'Harry, I have a confession to make.'_

The auror shot upward in bed with the sound of Gerald's voice echoing in his skull, a chill running through his body as if he'd literally been in the damp dungeon himself. Chest heaving, he reached over and switched on the light from his bedside table so he could see the bedroom clearly.

There were no uninvited visitors in the dark, only the sound of his scattered breaths and his wife softly snoring beside him. Leaning over her slumbering body, Harry left a kiss on her cheek before slipping out of bed and finding his robe.

It was still far too early for him to ready for the office, but he knew he'd be unable to return to sleep. So first cup of morning coffee it was. Strolling to the kitchen, the wizard tried desperately to shove away the vision of Gerald being tortured.

After further attempts to reach the man had proved futile, the aurors had focused instead on viewing the memory he had shared with Astoria. No wonder she'd been in such a hurry to leave after retrieving it; even with how quickly memories played back, it was quite long.

It could also be the owner's reason for asking her to return later, though after seeing it firsthand, the aurors figured that he may have simply wanted support. Mihai certainly offered this to the demon, even if it was for his own interest and not out of true concern.

Nonetheless, the memories had been stuck in Harry's mind since and the day had ended with a detailed dream depicting one scene in particular. It was as though his mind couldn't resist repeating the singular instance out of several where Voldemort had encased his so-called friend in water until the man ran out of air and began choking.

When Gerald fell unconscious onto the floor, he still went without being released from the spell for a good few minutes more. The water finally dispersed into a puddle around his head, Voldemort staring discontentedly down on him. If it weren't for knowing his current condition, Harry would have even thought he'd died because for too long afterward, the Dark Lord did absolutely nothing.

Even now, the auror wondered if the dark wizard had been contemplating allowing Gerald to die. For whatever reason, he didn't, but took his time in aiding the man by removing the water from his lungs, forcing air in, and being sure his heartbeat became steady again. Gerald, however, didn't awaken until what was presumably the next day when his tormentor returned, this time to burn him repeatedly.

What troubled Harry more than what Gerald endured, was what the dream version of him had been continuing to inform him. 'I have a confession...' Why the hell was he having these dreams? The recollection of the torture was explainable, but the rest?

At any rate, he was beginning to consider actually speaking to the demon about it. Logically, he knew he shouldn't for two reasons: one being that if Gerald was oblivious, it would do no good except perhaps let the man know he was getting under his skin; the other was that if he _was_ aware, then certainly there was a reason for approaching him in this manner that he would find out soon enough.

Or then again...if that reason was just to bother the investigator, he'd be letting him onto the fact it was working. Unfortunately, by the time he had dressed for the day, said goodbye to Ginny, and left for the Ministry, the auror hadn't decided a damn thing.

"Rough night?" Ron greeted in the hallway at work.

Harry, glancing upward at his partner, knew there was no point in denying the evidence of the restless hours the redhead could already see. Besides, he seemed tired as well, "Bad dreams."

"About Gerald?"

The auror hesitated, "Yeah. Just because of yesterday, I suppose."

"I don't think that's it, mate," Ron accused, "I mean sure, it's bad, but you're kind of used to that at this point, yeah? and you know as harsh as it may sound, it was sort of his own doing."

Harry didn't say anything as they stepped through the threshold of their office, carefully closing the door behind him while ignoring the comment toward Gerald's guilt in getting into the situation in the first place.

"Last time you were spooked like that and it was because of dreams, you _saw_ something," the other auror pointed, "Something real."

Throwing his cloak around the back of his chair, Harry sighed, "I don't know. I had a dream the other night, before we saw that memory... I told Ginny and she thinks it's probably stress."

"Yeah, well I doubt she'd write it off if she knew it was persisting," Ron scoffed, "Did you tell her about last night?"

Harry slouched his shoulders in defeat, "Not yet."

The redhead lifted two hands in a 'well, that's why' gesture.

Another sigh from the lead auror as he took his seat, "It's not like before. Gerald's actually talking to me in the dream; it _looks_ like a dream, not a vision through someone else's eyes."

"What does he say?"

"Excuse me," the door was suddenly opened to the familiar sight of the postman and his unruly buggy, "There was a package dropped off for you."

It was a strange occurrence, meaning they had never once been sent a package at the Ministry in their careers. With puzzled glances at each other, the pair rose from their spots and went to where the third wizard stood. While Ron took the mail, about the size of a shoe box, Harry addressed the messenger.

"It was dropped off, you say?"

"Yes, some shady fellow," the postman seemed equally intrigued, "Wouldn't leave a name; just said it was of the utmost importance that you get it immediately. I wasn't sure what it could be, but I came by early in case it was really that urgent."

Ron had taken the initial brown wrapping from the package at that time, "Wasn't from a young emo-looking guy, was it?"

"Ah...a what?" the man cocked his head to the side.

"Did he have white hair, dark eyeliner-" Harry started as his partner removed the lid from the box.

"Oh no no," the postman assured, "He looked normal enough, dark hair, dark eyes, but no makeup. It was just the behaviour I thought was odd. He _was_ fairly young though."

The redhead's gaze lifted from the package he held and he placed wide eyes on Harry while offering the box to him. Taking it, the lead auror understood who had likely delivered it, as well as why they were insistent upon it getting to them. Inside, were several plastic bags full of blood, as if collected from a hospital. There were no labels, yet it was clear this was what had been promised them from Lacrima.

Harry nodded solemnly, returning the box to his partner, who awkwardly replaced its lid, "Thank you," he turned to the man still standing at their door, "It is important."

It was clear the postman wanted to be let in on the contents of the package he'd delivered, but the auror merely shooed him politely out the door with a smile, saying they needed to see to business directly before giving another thanks and shutting the entryway.

"Looks like we haven't been entirely written off," Ron re-opened the package once they were alone again.

"Well, Mihai is under obligation of the vow. Is there a note in there?" Harry asked in the same moment that his partner had apparently found a slip of paper.

 _"Pace complete contents in a slowly decreasing dose over the course of four-five months,"_ Ron read, _"I heard word of the realtor... I do apologize for Gerald's absence. He moved to evade more reporters as we remain uncertain as to how Ms. Greengrass found his address in the first place and he has said his peace at this point in time. I hope your matter wasn't too pressing. Rest assured our meetings will take place as scheduled. Mihai."_

"Nothing on where he has moved to?" the lead auror wondered.

His partner flipped the paper, then shook his head.

"Alright, let's go," Harry sighed, lifting himself and strolling toward the door.

With box under arm, Ron followed and the two made their way to the Minister's office before initiating the experiment with Alan. Shackelbolt had been thoroughly annoyed when hearing of the difficulty finding Gerald, but he finally relented, reminding himself and the other men that there was nothing criminal in the act of leaving the home.

However, they all would have preferred to be able to easily present the demon to MACUSA's representatives. Informing the Americans that they were unaware of his whereabouts would surely only further speak negatively of their capability in handling the case. Regardless, this was where they were at.

The situation was already sticky as it was. The Ministry hadn't alerted them to anything that was not public knowledge now, but that didn't mean MACUSA didn't know more. Their president had only stated that their timing was simply that a conclusion on their end had only just been met regarding said public details though.

Shackelbolt remained skeptical, however, that perhaps there was a mole...one with more information than simply the existence of vampires and the allegations against Gerald. If MACUSA became aware of the demon's true nature, it could warrant the entire magical world much grief. Simply knowing of his wandlessness had been enough for them to forbid him knowledge of magic and a place such as America, where death could be a penalty...

"If that should be the President's desired outcome, we would be met with the decision to protect Gerald or allow him to be killed," the Minister had hummed during the discussion the day prior, "No matter if his crimes justify retribution when they are proven, relenting to such a sentence could cause the same strife amongst non-human magical creatures that we've been trying to prevent by pussy-footing around this whole ordeal.

"Yet on the other hand, we'd be placed in a dicey situation with MACUSA for denying this cooperation. In the same instance, if they find out we haven't been entirely truthful, it could cause distrust and unrest as well. They could even very well out us to our own citizens and inspire panic concerning how this dark wizard is not, in fact, a wizard," he had sighed before instructing the aurors to present the Americans to Gerald first, and see what came of the encounter.

Having Gerald be the one to steer either the Ministry's or MACUSA's hand could very well alleviate the tension by concreting the actions of either government. Given the demon's reaction to possibly being forcefully sent back to his home country might create a scenario that took the decision to share his nature or not to share it completely out of the Minstry's hands.

As it stood, these representatives had not yet made it to London and the time for _The Devil's Children_ to perform was nearing. So while Harry and Ron visited the hospital to start Alan's treatment, it began to seem that this initial meeting between the governments and their target of debate would indeed take place at the rock concert.


	10. Chapter 9: American Nightmare

The atmosphere of the concert varied greatly from the last show the aurors had witnessed. Instead of taking place during the day and outside, where the sun and slight breeze made it pleasant, if not cheery, the night's venue was an entertainment hall with a sizeable audience that made even the massive internal structure feel cramped. The amount of people seemed unprecedented, as it was their understanding that the band, despite having a loyal fanbase, was not vastly popular.

"They're not the only ones performing," Ron informed his partner just outside the stage room, "The _Weird Sisters_ are here."

"Is that not a band from the magical world?" one of the American aurors lifted his brow.

"Yeah, they're quite popular," the redhead answered, once more turning to his partner, "It looks like they're introducing _Weird Sisters_ as an up and coming indie band, since they're unknown in the muggle world."

Harry glanced curiously around at the others walking about, "It would explain the crowd. A lot of these people must be wizards."

"How strange," the same American spoke up, "Outside of Voldemort, Davis has never associated with wizards. Even his friendship with Smith was purely coincidental."

"With all due respect, Mr. Styles," Harry suggested, "Perhaps that is something to do with his being banned from such association by MACUSA."

The British and American aurors had met roughly an hour before making their way to the London arena. Their introductions unfortunately went as expected, with the foreigners acting piously while Harry and Ron approached with reserve, unaware of how true the President's claims had been. Irregardless of the fact that they had also noted the same about Gerald, Harry felt speaking as he had would help test the waters.

"Perhaps," Styles' expression remained flat, "But we believe in the utmost precaution to better ward off disaster _before_ it happens."

"Clearly didn't work in this case, yah? He joined Voldemort while under these precautionary measures," Ron muttered, mostly to Harry, though the other aurors could surely hear.

His partner ignored the comment and, with a nod at their guests, took a pace forward, "It sounds like the show has started. We should stick close."

Without word, the rest of the group followed behind the lead investigator and piled into the back of the stadium on the second highest level. By the time they came in, someone on stage was handing a microphone off to Gerald. The demon was dressed more akin to _Weird Sisters_ ' fashion than his typical, though it was really only different in the sense that the clothes were wizard robes that had been tattered for a grungy look.

"Good evening," he addressed the audience in a deep, raspy voice, "What beings do we have lurking in the shadows tonight?"

There was a noticeable divide in the response time of the crowd's cheers. Undoubtedly, those who were indeed of magical descent caught on to the man's subtle acknowledgement of them, causing them to hesitate before joining in. Harry cut his eyes to the side, taking in the hardened demeanor of Styles and Emerson. _Great_ , Gerald had hardly spoken a sentence and already pissed them off.

"We're glad to see you all, wherever it is you may hail from," he continued, twisting his neck so that he gazed across the entirety of the persons in front of him, "Even my friends from America, who rudely decided to pop in last minute."

 _Dammit, Gerald._ The bastard couldn't help himself, could he?

"How did he..." Ron whispered.

Harry shook his head. He didn't know. There could be several explanations for it. Most probably, the vampires were the ones who alerted him. The Ministry had suspected the creatures had reach which extended further than was apparent. Maybe after seeing how adamantly the aurors had wished to find Gerald quickly, directly upon his move, it had brought curiosity to the clan who then decided to find out why. They'd already hinted at being perturbed for how Astoria had found information regarding Gerald's whereabouts.

"Those of you who are here for our guests, the _Weird Sisters_ -" excited shouts arose from several groups, including one standing not too far from the investigators, "Are likely unaware how particular I can be," a handful of laughs, along with someone yelling what sounded like he was lovingly calling 'Gerry' an asshole, "So I'd like to take a moment to thank Myron for kindly convincing me not to be such a hard-ass."

From the same direction as the man who had jovially insulted Gerald, a louder voice came, "AHAHA TOLD YOU!"

It was followed by more laughs and cheers. Even Gerald chuckled and pointed a finger toward the source before turning to his side where the lead singer of the wizarding world band had strolled up. As the magical portion of the audience led the next round of claps and screams, Harry straightened himself in anticipation of what the well known wizard had to say regarding the evening.

"Thank you, Gerald," he nodded casually at the demon, and then addressed the room as the other man walked off and the rest of the _Weird Sisters_ approached their instruments on stage, "He's definitely not the person I expected," an odd silence settled, wizards and witches awaiting some affirmation that the dark wizard was harmless from someone they could trust, and _The Devil's Children_ fans surely curious as to what this newcomer had to say about their idol, "And I can't as of yet tell much more than that, but it's always been my feeling that everyone deserves a chance. I suppose that brings us to our first song."

While the popular tune of 'This is the Night' began playing, Harry leaned himself against the wall and glanced at the trio with him. Emerson and Ron likewise looked to him momentarily. It appeared that Gerald was doing fairly well in playing the masses, which shouldn't have been surprising, granted he was, on most all accounts, a performer. Then again, how much was he 'playing' and how much was true? The best actors used facts to portray fiction, making it extremely difficult to keep proper tabs on the underlying motives.

 _"When all is dark and there's no light,_  
 _Lost in the deepest star of night,_  
 _I see you.  
_ _Your hands are shaking baby;  
_ _You ain't been sleeping lately.  
_ _There's something out there,  
_ _And it don't seem very friendly does it?  
_ _If I could help you I would help ya,  
_ _But it's difficult.  
_ _There's something much more powerful  
_ _Than both of us possessing me."_

The concert went on, with _Weird Sisters_ performing a handful of songs prior to _The Devil's Children_ taking the stage and belting lyrics lesser known to the magical citizens and most with harsher deliveries than the rock genre of their predecessors. Everyone present seemed to enjoy both musical renditions, making it harder for Harry to determine which people were from which origins. As the next two hours went on and the night was brought to a close with a farewell accompanied by a final song, the aurors prepared to exit and find Gerald, hoping nobody would recognize and distract them.

 _"Fast asleep, it's all in your head now.  
Past the street where they cursed my name,  
But I won't be forsaken.  
Craven my revenge from the shallow grave  
Where I went down in flames.  
The beast has been awakened._

 _"I'm the American nightmare with American dreams  
Of counting the bodies while you count sheep.  
_

 _"_ _Fell in love with hate 'cause evil fit like a glove.  
_ _It's fate that I'm still here.  
_ _Wicked when I was just a man,  
_ _But sickening now and fed by fear.  
_ _The beast has been awakened;  
_ _They all think it's just pretend.  
_ _When night comes creeping,  
_ _My cruel hand will rock you to sleep."_

If it hadn't been for the strange mixture of hostility with reference to slumber, Harry probably would have joined Emerson in her obvious eye-roll at the lyrics. Outside of the investigators, nobody seemed to be taking much heed to Gerald's song as anything more than simply a performance. Perhaps that _was_ all there was to it. Nonetheless, the lead auror began questioning if there was indeed something more sinister about his dreams like Ron had suggested.

The redhead was the first to speak once they were on the other side of the wall again, heading quickly toward where the bands would be joined after the show before the crowd dispersed and made the trek difficult, "A might pretentious, that last one, don't you think?"

"Regardless of his age or knowledge, Davis is little more than a punk who enjoys stirring the pot," Styles agreed in a growl.

"I think it's usual for metal music to have violent words," Emerson observed in a less critical tone, "Either way, I wouldn't put much stock in it. Art is meant for venting frustrations rather than having them build and come out in an unhealthy manner."

It was the first time the witch had spoken since they'd left the Ministry. She seemed to be more agreeable than her companion, who was fairly vocal without care for how his statements might sound.

"Would hardly call _that_ art," her partner scoffed.

Point proven...

The four soon found themselves just outside the backstage area where a large, dark-skinned man stood with arms crossed. He wore a black t-shirt with 'SECURITY' stamped across the chest in yellow lettering. In a strangely polite fashion, the Americans allowed the British wizards to approach first. The group had previously discussed the possibility of having to sneak through. Actually, it was Styles who had brought it up, Harry, having agreed that it could be the outcome, now inwardly hoped that the demon was with enough sense to whitelist them, seeing as he knew they would be there.

"We're here to speak to Gerald Davis," the lead auror informed.

The man, without missing a beat and keeping his stern attention on the strangers, inquired, "Name?"

"Harry Pot-" the wizard answered, interrupted by the guard stepping aside after hearing the first name alone.

"Third door on your right," he gave nonchalantly, watching the four enter before moving back into place.

"Well, that was less bothersome than anticipated," Emerson grinned at her partner, who kept his grim demeanor.

Taking the turn into the designated room, the four aurors set sights on the _Weird Sisters_ idly lounging on furniture arranged around a wooden table covered in cups and bottles. While each member acknowledged their entrance, it was Myron who spoke.

"Harry, Ron, it is good to see you again," he approached, offering his hand.

"Again?" Ron was the second to shake it.

"Yes, don't think I didn't spot the fourth champion in the Tri-Wizard Tournament those few years ago when we performed at the Yule Ball," he smiled at Harry, then the redhead, "And his good friend."

"I guess this is a formal introduction then," the lead auror returned kindly, gesturing at the two behind him, "This is Charth Styles and Elita Emerson; they're aurors from MACUSA."

"Pleasure to meet you as well," Myron nodded, joined by the other men still sitting.

"Pleasure," the Americans said in unison.

At that moment, the door behind them opened, revealing first Brad Angston, then the unnamed guitarist, and lastly Gerald, who strolled in with a critical gaze cast upon the wizards from his home country. He didn't speak and simply walked to the table to retrieve a beer bottle. As the white-haired man drank, Brad addressed the guests with a chortle.

"Looks like the party was brought to you, huh, Ger?" the subvamp smirked, almost displaying fangs.

"Shut the fuck up, Brad," Gerald conveyed his foul mood.

The drummer shrugged, also opting to take a bottle and a seat beside Orsino, drummer of _Weird Sisters._ Myron, in a diplomatic attitude, raised a polite concern to both Gerald and Harry, "Shall we leave you now to your business?"

"Yes," the demon was the one to answer, "That would be preferred. Thank you again for your graciousness."

"Undoubtedly," the wizard patted the singer on the back, "We will be in touch, yes?"

"Hm," Gerald hummed, his vision fixed on Styles.

As the last of the magical band departed, _The Devil's Children's_ new member slung a backpack over his shoulder and stepped after, "I imagine I don't need to be here for this either."

The man had a clearly American accent, drawing the attention of the MACUSA employees, "Actually," Emerson caught him by the shoulder when he passed by her, "Perhaps you should. We haven't been introduced yet."

The man's eyes darted awkwardly from her to Gerald and back. To be truthful, Harry was a bit curious of him as well; namely to know if he was muggle or wizard...or something else.

"Tomas, ignore her, you can go," Gerald took a final swig of his drink and set the glass back down.

"Alright," he cleared his throat and kept on his way, "Later then, bro."

When the door had slammed, leaving the four aurors alone in the room with the demon and subvamp, Gerald slipped his hands into his pockets and took a relaxed position standing near the opposite wall, "It's been my understanding that American wizards don't care to have to do with muggles," his voice was cold, "So you needn't bother Tomas."

"Hmph," Styles relented, "And I see there is someone to inform you of our arrival. We know it wasn't the Ministry, so who might it have been?"

"You act like I'm in league with some sort of nefarious spy," Gerald replied, "Perhaps it was the same individual who told you that I was still around."

"Or the one who warned you so you could escape the country," Styles spat, taking an angry pace toward the demon.

Before Harry could step in and diffuse the situation, a new voice sounded from the door that the company was too riled up to notice had opened again, "Or perhaps more than one person is tired of all the distrust and suspicion going around."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Ice Nine Kills just released a new album where every song is based on a different horror movie. 'American Nightmare' is FREDDY FUCKING KRUEGER! XD I have a major obsession with Freddy and I do also write Nightmare on Elm Street fanfiction ^_^ **The info on Weird Sisters is canon.**


	11. Chapter 10: Delving Deeper

"What are you doing here?" Gerald's voice bottomed out, showing how completely thrown off guard he was by the wizard's sudden appearance.

The change did not go unnoticed by Styles, who glanced between the two men before taking a step to the side to allow the newcomer in, "Mr. Smith, how nice of you to stop by and put your word in on the matter."

Oliver released an audible sigh, but otherwise did not make notice of the distasteful greeting, "Well, Gerald, I figured it only fair that someone be around who knew MACUSA law."

The demon's expression grew quizzical as he put all attention on his old friend, "Who-" his lips snapped shut as instantly as he began so he could take a deep breath and revise the statement, "Nevermind. Thanks for coming."

Oliver nodded, waiting patiently for business to get underway. The atmosphere in the room was thick while the company looked oddly around at each other, Brad's lips being the first to curl into a smirk as he started to speak. The other musician, however, halted him by muttering to the side about beating him if he didn't remain quiet.

"There's the young Grindelwald we know," Styles smirked with a low voice, "Selfishly violent."

The demon slowly lifted his gaze to the auror, his attitude having shifted to a genuinely threatening one, "You _don't_ know me," he seethed, "And don't call me by that name."

"No aversion to the violent part, I see," Styles baited.

"Harry, I'm certain the purpose here is not to cast shadows?" Oliver brought the auror in whilst marching to Gerald's side, though whether in his defense or in case the demon attacked, Harry was uncertain.

"No," Potter agreed, "Gerald, we came to inform you that Mr. Styles and Ms. Emerson are here to see out the rest of your case."

"Why?" Oliver inquired cooly.

"To ensure both our countries are satisfied with its conclusion," Styles answered.

"I'm sorry, but didn't MACUSA relinquish jurisdiction regarding Gerald already?" Oliver accused.

Harry hesitated, "It was agreed the Ministry would work the case, informing MACUSA of the details concerning it."

Gerald rolled his eyes yet surprisingly said nothing although it was clear he wanted to. In fact, it seemed that the only reason he didn't was because Oliver was present. His mouth had opened, but when he cocked his head and saw his old friend, he simply closed it, settling on the agitated motion. The aurors were divided on the demon's behavior.

On one hand, this was proof that he had learned some semblance of control, relegating the matter to someone with more experience: that being the guitarist, despite the extreme difference in their ages. On the other, they were hoping that he'd lose his cool and reveal too much so the Ministry needn't worry for deciding to deceive the Americans or not. The foreigners were already discontent with the progress in Britain, so there wasn't much fear of it coming down to them thinking the Ministry simply had not had time to inform them of Gerald's true nature, should the demon readily show them during this visit.

"You have something to share, Mr. Davis?" Styles didn't let the display go without comment.

"Do you?" Gerald returned with a lifted brow, "I don't see any point of you being here if all that was to be given was what Harry said."

"Gerald," Potter stepped in, hoping that recanting the other man's formal address would make him feel they would still show him respect even if his own country men wouldn't, "We thought it would be best to inform you in person. As well, wanted to give you the chance to speak with them about everything that's gone on...or whatever you may wish."

Cocking his head, the demon considered the auror's words. To his side, Oliver placed careful attention on Harry, appearing to come to a conclusion to his intent quicker than the dark wizard did. Before he could convey it however, Gerald decided he did have something to share.

"You wanted me to be able to speak my peace," he hummed and Harry nodded, "I hardly see reason to. None of you care what I have to say and furthermore, the fact that American aurors are here shows that they don't care what you have to say," the demon pointed with his eyes at the Ministry employees.

"Well then, how about we start with this," Emerson suggested, not giving any time for tension between the countries' representatives to be seen, "Mr. Potter and Mr. Weaseley like you for the murders of Lucius Malfoy and Augustus Rookwood."

"That they do," Gerald's monotone agreed, gaining a wary glance from Oliver.

"And yet we hear you've never formally denied your guilt," the woman finished, unbalanced or intrigued by his interruption, Harry wasn't sure.

"Like I said," Gerald repeated, "No point."

"It's a simple question," Styles pressed, "And one in which your answer, while not proving anything no matter what you say, does reflect your willingness to submit to authority. It would do you good to show such cooperation."

The demon glared back at the wizard with rabid intensity that had Harry looking for his eyes to shift into red, but they didn't.

"So? Did you kill Lucius Malfoy?" Styles stilled, returning the determined stare.

After a few seconds of silence, Oliver stepped closer to his friend and nudged in a whisper, "Ger, just say something. Don't be difficult."

"Well?" Styles prompted impatiently.

The demon's lips parted, paused, then shut again. A heavy breath released through his nostrils and he scoffed, "I _wish_ I had had the pleasure. The only reason he lived as long as he did was because I never had the nerve to kill him in the past."

"Confessing motive isn't exactly in your favor either," Styles huffed, "But if that's your answer, so be it."

The familiar sight of Oliver shaking his head took Harry's focus as Emerson posed the next question just as plainly, "And Rookwood? Wish you could have killed him too?"

Another roll of the eyes as Gerald spun in his spot and trudged to a leather chair opposite the couch behind where the group had been standing. Retrieving what appeared to be a military style backpack, he walked to his former position, "I've had enough of this," he growled at the Americans, turning toward Harry, "Let me know when they decide to take the reigns from you."

The dark wizard then casually strolled between Emerson and Styles, hand on the door handle before Brad hunched his shoulders and followed, only to be stopped by Emerson's voice, "Oh and Mr. Angston."

The subvamp and demon alike twisted at the sound of the witch using the recently human's name. Both wore expressions of agitated confusion.

"You may have been born a no-mag, which we have strict laws against associating with," her gaze accused the pair when she'd gained their attention, "But since it seems you are now magically influenced, we'll be reviewing you as well."

The younger man tilted as if contemplating whether to take her seriously or joke her warning off. Likely in his favor, Oliver skipped quickly to the vampiric subject and acknowledged the woman in his place.

"Duly noted," he gave a slight bow, "You'll have to infer with the lead aurors on the subject of his influence."

With those words, he hurried Brad past Gerald and out of the room before rotating and urging the singer to go also. Strangely enough, the demon acted perturbed by Emerson bringing his companion into things. His demeanor was nigh identical to when he had defended Oliver's honor against the aurors months ago, insisting he be left alone. Nonetheless, the trio departed, allowing the detectives to deliberate.

"As agreeable as typical, it seems," Styles observed.

"Sir, we were not aware MACUSA planned on investigating Brad," Harry alerted.

"I would have assumed that obvious with his direct ties to Mr. Davis and his heritage," the American explained matter-of-factly, "Regardless, it is so."

"The normal way of dealing with this sort of thing is to obliviate the muggle, right?" Ron pondered, "From what we've learned, vampiric influence won't be washed away with a spell like that."

"Then we will need to remove the influence," Emerson surmised, "It is dark magic indeed and therefore illegal."

"With all due respect," Harry argued diplomatically, "We've only just discovered the existence of an entirely new species, living in a world of their own. We don't know their reach or even fully the extent of their powers."

"Not to mention," his partner interjected, "These guys are hundreds of years old. They're stuck being these creatures because of a single use of dark magic so long ago there isn't even a way of proving it other than their word."

"He's right," Harry confirmed, "They are what they are and not necessarily any more evil than the next predatory animal. Enslaving humans against their will is criminal, yes, but for all we know, only one vampire has done this. We'd have to judge each on a case by case basis."

"And Brad is a willing subject," Ron rapidly kept on the subject.

"You can't be suggesting we live alongside their kind," Styles berated, "They sustain themselves on blood, on murder. It's irrelevant of when they used the magic, they _chose_ to be like this."

"But they're trying to reverse it," the redhead piped, silencing the room.

"What? Oh, their interest in the necromancer," the haughty man remembered, "And I assume you're privy to this project as it is underway?"

The British wizards glanced awkwardly at each other.

"Not exactly," Harry admitted, "We've been updated on its progress through our connection with Mihai."

"The vampire assigned to Davis," Emerson hummed, "When will we meet him?"

The lead auror narrowed his vision, "I'm sorry. We were not instructed to introduce him. We thought you were solely here for Gerald."

"Who is under watch of a vampire," her partner said, "I doubt this creature should take kindly if we were to step in and further complicate his task. No, it would be best we approach this openly."

"Besides," Emerson spoke again, "Has it not occurred to you that perhaps it was this Mihai who murdered the dark wizards in Davis' stead? If it is true, proving his guilt will settle once and for all what place Davis had in these crimes."

Despite being unable to argue with their reasons, the British aurors dreaded the idea of the two becoming such an intricate part of their investigation. It was bad enough that they had to deal with pleasing MACUSA on Gerald's account, but to have them snooping around expecting to have equal say in everything else as well was beyond frustrating...and Harry already knew what the Minister would instruct so it was already concreted in the young auror's mind.

"We have considered that possibility," Potter affirmed, "Should that be the outcome, Mihai will be tried by the Ministry and you can return home knowing that you do not have a criminal to deal with."

"Indeed," Styles accepted, "Though we are still trying to locate what remains of Delilah Davis."

Harry's posture stiffened with the mention and he could sense Ron's uneasiness as well. They had actually never informed MACUSA of Gerald's confession to murdering his mother. It wasn't relative to the case, seeing as the Ministry had simply approached the man to determine his current risk to the community.

In addition, it would only cause fuss that the dark wizard be remanded to the US to account for it since there were no statute of limitations that their magical government followed. Harry supposed they were somewhat similar to the Americans in the regard that they wished to remain in control.

"Oh?" the lead auror vaguely elicited more information.

"After we found that Davis had left the country, we began tracking her down, but so far haven't had any luck," Emerson imparted with a thoughtful sound, "Our records end directly before her son came of the age he should begin schooling at a magic institution. In the no-mag side of things, we were able to link her origins to a small tribe of Natives called the Chickasaw."

This bit of information deeply interested the British wizards, "She was muggle born?"

"No. She was pure blood just like Grindelwald," the witch assured, "When we were finally able to have an audience with the chief, he shooed us out the moment we brought up her name. He definitely knew who she was, but refused to discuss it with us."

"It's sparked debate that there are magical citizens who are part of the tribe, living outside of our government's knowledge," Styles interjected, "I assume you aren't familiar with our country's affairs regarding Native tribes, but this is causing a problem. One we can't easily remedy due to the nature in the no-mag world on the protections of and discrimination against Indigenous People."

"Has Mr. Davis spoken of his heritage?" Emerson's tone shifted to genuine curiosity.

There was a short pause while Harry decided how was best to respond, "Not so much. The only thing we know with any credibility is that he and his mother traveled, finding much of their time spent in your southern states, and that Gellert Grindelwald was never present in his life."

"About as much as we've concluded," Emerson sighed, apparently accepting the statements as truth.

"Can't say I'm unhappy that Grindelwald is gone, but I am disappointed that it means we don't have the chance he would shed some light on the mystery," her partner commented almost sullenly.

Nodding, Harry led the way for the group's departure. He was beginning to think that they would in fact be enlightening their guests to information on Grindelwald and therefore Gerald's true nature. This cast serious doubt that the demon would remain in Britain for long, if the Ministry weren't to fight for their own judgment of the creature over MACUSA's. What once he thought was Gerald's hatred overshadowing logic, the auror now wondered if the Americans were so adamantly set against him.


End file.
